The Unravelling
by Brindabella
Summary: As the lives of our favourite characters unravel in two vastly different situations, they look to each other for support like never before, but learn loyalties are very delicate things to handle. When pushed, what, and who, will they decide to choose?
1. Chapter 1

Chapter 1

Matt Ryan didn't share his secrets with anyone. Never had and never would. To admit your secrets, he thought, was to admit your weaknesses, your insecurities. It was an invitation for people to feel sorry for you. And he hated that. He wanted nobody's sympathy. It would only make him feel worse.

The few times his secrets had been revealed, they'd literally been forced out of him – taken completely out of his hands, out of his control – like when his mothers body had been found. No matter how much he wanted to keep that part of his life a secret, stored tightly in that little dark box at the back of his mind, he couldn't once they'd identified the remains. They had been beautiful, even in death, and even after all those years brutally wrapped in a suffocating cocoon of industrial plastic – parts of it stretched and sagged where she had fought against it, pushing her hands out against the prison, kicking her feet in every which way she could manage. Matt had wanted to touch it all at the time, just to feel some of her spirit again, a vibrant beauty of movement he remembered so vividly and which had stayed frozen in his memory since that night his whole world had changed.

He'd been forced to reveal his longing for Jennifer too, when she had so teasingly, yet good naturedly got it out of him. He had been unable to meet her eyes as they sat next to each other in the bar, and he had forced a smile onto his face, because he knew it was the only the thing he could do. But he'd been so unbelievably and torturously embarrassed. And even further mortified when she'd turned him down. And he had given up easily – admitting defeat within himself right then and there.

He simply didn't see what good it did to reveal ones secrets. You just ended up embarrassed or the subject of crushing pity by others. He now did all he could to avoid that. And besides, he still felt an overwhelming responsibility to just be tough and suck it up. He was a police officer and knew he had to act like one, whether he felt capable of it or not.

But when he continually fell short of not only Bernice and Stanley's expectations, but also of his own, he knew his time as a sergeant was rapidly drawing to a close. With every case that went wrong, with every order that Allie and Rhys ignored, with every fed up look that Jarvis shot venomously his way, Matt felt the walls closing in faster and faster around him, until he was all but trapped inside a cell so small he could not even reach his arms out to their full span. He'd never felt anything so suffocating, nor so stunningly lonely, and worst of all, it felt like there was no one on the other side of the wall to reach in and help him out.

Still, in a way he still felt the determination within to fight his way out solo, without anybody else's help. He felt if he couldn't do that, what credibility did he have left? None. It was already eroded to the point of dust anyway, so he was hell bent on fighting to the death to regain what he had worked so bloody hard for all these years. He was not just going to throw it all away. Not without a fight anyway.

But he also missed his colleagues and the way they used to be. Everything had changed – it wasn't just Matt. The office had a new dynamic now, and had for some time. There were too many members, he felt, and even though they all worked well together, there were also a lot of days where the team became divided, squaring off on an issue and working separately. They would bluntly refuse to accept another members ideas until it became too obvious that one side was more right than the other. Then they would grumble and sulk and only be more driven to be the right one the next time.

This division had only been made worse since he became sergeant, he knew. And he knew people were talking about him, commenting on what a move it was to come back to your old squad and suddenly try to lead them. And they were right of course. Before he'd taken that exam they had been equals. Now he knew even less of where he stood. By stripes on the shoulder Matt Ryan was 'better' and more qualified than Jen and Duncan and Allie, but by reputation and results, he felt he'd truly fallen to the bottom of the heap. Equals? What a joke. No wonder he'd had issues since day one. But he'd stubbornly tried to keep working at it, wanting to make it work, wondering too if he'd just had a shocking run of bad luck with difficult cases. He just wanted to save face - to save his own feelings of failure from springing out and to save himself from the embarrassment that he knew would come if it didn't work out.

Only now, when the crunch time had inevitably come, did he see the way Jennifer, Duncan, Stanley, had all tried to help him. But their protests and their quiet words in his office and their forgiving natures had fallen on deaf ears. And that, that had been his downfall. He could see that now. His stubborn refusal to accept help, to show any kind of sign that he was not capable of being a sergeant, had made him yell at Rhys and Allie, made him swear under his breath countless times a day, made him speak to his best friends in a manner so cold and angry that they couldn't hide the shock on their faces and made him feel so utterly incapable of doing the job right.

It was only when Bernice had called Matt into her office one hot afternoon early in November and not one, but four pairs of eyes, were fixated on him, was Matt forced to believe he might have failed. And when they began to speak, he knew he was right.

They scooted politely around the word 'failure'. They never actually said it. It was fifteen minutes of padding out the conversation to make it not feel like such a blow to him. But they were wasting their breaths. He wondered inside, as he sat in front of Bernice, his collar suddenly feeling like it was choking him and the scratchy fibres of his jacket sleeves pin pricking their way through the sleeves of his shirt, irritating his skin so much that he just wanted to rip the jacket off and hurl it half way across the room, if he had always known this was going to be the way his sargeants stint went. He knew he had gone into the course prematurely, piggy backing off the let down of his break up with Emma and using the new position as a tool to bring his life back into what he felt was a sensible order again. It was like booking a six month backpacking adventure in just two days. Some things just required a little bit more planning and thinking and weighing up of the pros and cons. He had not been ready to be sergeant.

They did not demote him. He still held the title. The paperwork still referred to him as sergeant and so did some of his young charges. But he was swiftly inserted back into the way of life of a senior constable for a trial period he was told would last as long as they felt the need for it to. It was a relief from the rigours of being a sergeant – they were letting him take it easy for a while. So suddenly he was back to doing things the way he used to, taking orders from others rather than giving them out, answering to Stanley instead of being his equal. He felt more comfortable in this position, but lamented how short lived his sargeants experience had been. He didn't know if he'd ever be ready to go back to it.

And if I prove no good here

I'll skip to where I should

It took a long time to settle back into just being one of the regular team alongside Rhys and Jen and Nick. He felt like he was struggling with it just as much as he'd struggled with being a sergeant. And everyday he felt the eyes of his superiors watching him, as if he might break, or have a major meltdown, and the pressure mounted because of this. He tried his utmost to keep his cool in the office, trying so desperately to be the Matt of old – the Matt everyone knew and got along so well with. But that Matt was gone, and had been replaced with a Matt who did melt down – but only at home, away from prying eyes, when he was alone and no one could make a judgement on him. He had had more than twenty years of hiding his secrets and putting on a façade – he'd had to do it ever since his mother disappeared – and thought he had it down to a fine art. No one noticed Matt Ryan, he thought to himself constantly.

But alas, they did. And that was how he found himself signing off early one afternoon to make an appointment that had been made for him, rather than by him. He was loathe to keep it, but he got into the lift anyway.

They were going to make him spill his secrets.


	2. Chapter 2

Chapter 2

Jennifer cursed her alarm clock sometimes. It so often let her down. She was constantly late for work, late to meet someone, late for appointments at the dentist, doctor, physio. She knew she should just set her mobile phone's alarm too, but every night as her head crashed into the welcoming pool of fluffiness that was the best quality feather pillow she'd ever purchased, she just never thought to set a back up alarm on her phone. She was too busy already snoring.

So now she was late to meet Angela. They had let their Saturday morning coffee dates slip for the last few months, but in a fit of reminiscing the previous week, Jennifer had called her friend on her way out of work and they had organised to catch up again and try to make it the weekly meeting it once had been. Angela had been pleased to hear from her, and reminded her, like she always did, that Jennifer badly needed a life outside of police work.

Jennifer bolted across the train platform and leapt on board the carriage just as the doors were closing. Breathless, she sat down in the first seat she found, not noticing anyone around her. Only when she was a good five minutes into the journey did she sit back and relax, taking in the noisy Saturday morning travellers. There were plenty of highschool kids, all decked out in ipods and hi tops, fluro clothing and wild hairstyles, doing their best to ignore the combination of elderly and family passengers smushed in around them in the small carriage.

There were plenty of little kids too – sitting in strollers and peaking out from oversized caps their parents had plopped on their heads in preparation for the mornings sun rays. They all giggled quietly as they knelt on the seats and pressed chubby little hands on the graffitied windows of the train, looking out in awe at the cars and city buildings. Jennifer loved how, to kids, everything was all so new. She longed to experience some things for the first time again, the way they got to everyday until they became the aged and experienced and jaded adult she now found herself to be.

She smiled kindly at a little girl who smiled shyly in her direction from the seat opposite and admired her sweet pinafore dress and her tiny white sandals. There was a side of Jennifer that longed for the opportunity to be able to dress up her own daughter like that and take her out in the sunshine on an adventure on a brilliant Saturday such as this. But like always, Jennifer consoled herself with the line that there was a reason it hadn't happened for her yet. She obviously wasn't ready and it obviously wasn't the right time.

As the train pulled into her station, she gathered her handbag and got up to stand by the door. When it opened she waited impatiently for those in front of her to step onto the platform and then briskly made her way to the stairs. If she hurried she would only be fifteen minutes late.

Angela was sitting tucked into the booth they always sat at, in the café they always went to. It was a nice tradition they had started way back when they'd first become friends, and the familiarity of it made Jennifer smile. Even if they hadn't met up in months, the way it had been lately, they both knew they could come back to this little place and sit in this booth and it would be like they had just seen each other yesterday.

Jennifer rushed up to the table, pushing her fringe behind her ear as she slung her bag onto the leather cushioned seat. "Oh Ange, I'm sorry I'm so late." She greeted her friend with a tight squeeze and a peck on the cheek and Angela held her at arms length, grinning.

"It's all right," she answered. She patted her hands along Jennifer's hair and cocked her head. "When did you do this?"

Jennifer slid into the booth and smiled, finally relaxing. "Oh, a couple of weeks ago," she answered. "Do you like it?" she pulled a chunk out taut by her right eye and regarded it wearily. "I'm still getting used to it."

Her friend was falling over herself with compliments. "No! I love it. It's very grown up. And besides, it's about time you got rid of your twenties hair style Jen. You're in your dreaded thirties now," she teased.

Jen laughed and remembered the traumatising afternoon she had gone to the hairdressers with Ange when she'd chopped her hair off into a much more 'adult' style. What an experience, she remembered. With every snip of the scissors, she could tell Ange was feeling older and older and as they'd walked out of the salon two hours later, she had gripped Jen's hand and dramatically thrown her head back and wailed comically: 'Goodbye my twenties! I'll miss you!'

"It's so good to see you," Jen confessed earnestly. "What's been happening? Fill me in!" They didn't even need to look at the menu – it was always the same. Two skinny lattes that were a total waste of the skimmed milk the barista used when they ordered the gooiest, most decadent cake that was on display in the cabinet to go with them. But it was their ritual and they loved it.

Ange rolled her eyes in her usual dramatic but endearing fashion. "Well of course, as always, I'm still waiting on Julian to pop the question," she explained. "He's not been picking up on any of my hints Jen!"

Jen smiled in return. Ange and Julian had been together for six years, and in Ange's book they should've been engaged at least four years ago. "Maybe you need to do something really dramatic," she offered half heartedly, not really feeling qualified to give this kind of advice.

Ange nodded, stirring sugar into her latte. "I know, that's what I was thinking." She took a sip and smiled cheekily. "So that's why I dragged him into the jewellery store the other day and purposely made a big show of how gorgeous one of the princess cut engagement rings were. I practically spelt it out for him. I think he's definitely got the point now."

Jennifer laughed again. Only Ange would do something so blatant to poor, long suffering Julian. But they were a great couple, and Jen looked forward to the day they tied the knot.

"So what about you?" Ange asked eagerly. "Did I hear correctly that Nick Buchanan has transferred back to Homicide?" She leant forward across the table, eager to hear if the juicy gossip she had been dying to discuss with Jen was true or not.

Jen's eyeline dropped as she felt a shade embarrassed. "You heard correctly," she answered.

Ange let out a squeal as she slapped Jennifer's hand that rested beside her plate of cake. "Oh hurray!" she exclaimed. "How's it going?"

Ange knew their history – in fact it had been her who had first introduced Jennifer to Nick, back when she had had her own law practice. And Ange was Jennifer's closest girlfriend, so had heard all the intimate and steamy details of their previous liaison four years ago from Jennifer over countless coffee dates just like this one.

Jennifer shrugged. "I don't know," she answered truthfully. "We get on just fine. There's no awkwardness, no bad blood. It's just… I don't know where to go with it. It would never work. Not when we work in the same department." She looked confused as she said it. Was that really the reason? Or was it just the most convenient one to offer up when her best friend asked?

Her friend suddenly turned serious and made Jennifer look at her. "Do you still feel for him like you used to?" she asked quietly. She was cautious and slow in her question, knowing the query hit a raw nerve with Jen every time.

Jen thought for a good ten seconds before she answered. "He's still the same guy Ange," she admitted quietly, sounding a little breathless without even having said his name. "I can't find anything wrong with him…just like I couldn't last time."

"Which is why _I'm_ still confused as to why you guys broke up," Ange confessed gently.

Jen propped her chin up on her hand and heaved a sigh, toying with the handle of her latte glass with her free hand. "I just didn't believe it was going to work in the long term," she explained. The two women had discussed the issue of Jen and Nick's relationship only about three thousand times since it had happened. "I should've known that when we returned to normal life, after undercover, that it wouldn't be the same. How could it possibly be the same Ange?" It was a question that had swam around in Jennifer's head for four years now.

"Are you sure it wasn't just you who found a problem in adjusting?" Ange pressed.

Jennifer sighed again. She didn't have an answer for that one that she could ever say out loud.

"You can't wait forever Jen," Ange said gently, looking at her with raised eyebrows and trying to lighten the mood. "Now you've got your 'I'm over thirty' haircut, time's running out."

"Ange!" Jen howled, finally cracking a smile. "Don't say that! As if I don't worry about it enough already! I know I'm fast becoming a statistic."

Ange nodded knowingly. "And you don't want to be single, unmarried and childless like the rest of the female members of the force do you? C'mon, I know you don't." She smiled kindly at her friend, able to read her mind so easily after so many years and so many deep and meaningfuls.

"But what about Nick?" Jen asked her quietly. "It's been a long time."


	3. Chapter 3

Chapter 3

The first session was labouriously torturous – so much so in fact that Matt was certain she had cut it short to put an end to the cringe worthy silence of their meeting. As Matt exited the room, he felt like he'd been released from a prison, and was actually quietly pleased that they had not been able to get out of him any of his secrets.

She stopped him as he stepped back out into the waiting room though, now empty save for the calming smell of vanilla and the tiny tinkling of the classical music that wafted gently out of the small speakers of an ipod dock on a table by the door. She put a hand on his arm and it made him stop. "Don't be disheartened by today Matt," she said. "I know you'll still go home with lots to think about."

As he strolled back to his car, parked lonely on a side street, its only accompaniments three large green skip bins, Matt scoffed inwardly at her words. Disheartened? Please! He felt a stubbornness rise up higher inside him as he pulled the seatbelt across his body. Todays session – his first ever at a psychologist – had only made him more determined to suck it up and sort it out himself. He was determined to be victorious against the demons that lurked in his subconscious.

He drove back to Homicide – a place where he happily spent more time at than he did his own home – and made his way back up to his floor, silently ignoring the cleaners who had, at that time of early evening, begun to descend on the building, lazily swinging their mops back and forth across the marble floors. He punched in the right number on the lift panel with his thumb and stared forward at nothing as it rose through the floors of the monstrously tall building. As it climbed, he felt that funny, though not unpleasant, lurch in his stomach as the lift reached for its destination.

When the doors opened half a moment later, the first thing he saw was Nick's back. He stood just a few metres in front of Matt saying nothing. Matt looked past Nick and saw Jen gathering her blazer up off the back of her chair. She slung it casually over her arm and jogged a little to reach the point where Nick stood, waiting for her. When she was just a few steps from him, he turned.

"Matt!" Nick tried to sound surprised – Matt guessed it was perhaps for Jennifer's benefit – but failed miserably. Any of the other Homicide crew would have been shocked to see a colleague coming _back _into the office to do _more _work when it was well after 7pm. But Matt knew Nick didn't. To Nick, Matt had accepted the coveted role of sergeant voluntarily and he felt Matt should be prepared to put in the heinous hours and weather all the criticism and judgement the job entailed. That was what you signed up for when you put yourself forward for sergeant, Nick thought.

Jennifer's face appeared at Nick's shoulder. "Not heading home Matt?" Her face was warm with a concerned smile, but one that easily gave away the self consciousness she felt about it being so obvious she was leaving the office with Nick and therefore probably putting herself in danger of becoming the source of office gossip.

Matt shook his head quickly and stepped out of the lift and into the dark amber glow of the office. "Nah, just have some loose ends to tidy up before I call it a night," he explained.

His two colleagues nodded in response and took his place in the lift, telling him not to work too hard. As the doors closed and they called out goodbyes to him, Matt noticed that it was only Jen who cared enough to smile and make eye contact until the doors were completely closed and they couldn't anymore. Nick however, portrayed the opposite, punching at the buttons on the lift panel not dissimilarly to the way Matt had only minutes earlier and looking impatiently at the watch that hung slightly loosely on his left wrist, just below his rolled up shirt sleeve.

In all honesty, Matt felt obliged and influenced by Nick's forthright opinion of how a sergeant should be, and did want to put in the extra hours, especially today, after missing the afternoon. And it didn't matter that he was on a 'break' from being sergeant – he still wanted to prove himself sergeant worthy. So he sat down at his desk, in his lifeless and sterile office, all dull colours and cold sensations, and ploughed through paperwork with a kind of cold hearted sense of separation he had recently noticed had begun to creep into his work. He didn't like it how the role of sergeant had minimised the humanity aspect, as well as the teamwork aspect of his job – the aspects he had loved so much. It had shifted instead into a field of leadership he felt was such a mammoth task for his underprepared self. It had upped the ante in a way he had not expected, and didn't exactly enjoy. He felt further separated from his colleagues, from the victims, from their stories, from the witnesses and the general public – from everything. He had gained a stripe but lost a string in the bow that had made up his thoughtful and kind heart.

As he put the finishing flourishes on another text book report, he frowned and clenched his teeth hard in frustration. He forced himself to push out of his mind the memories of the day he had just had. He simply wanted to pretend like none of it had ever happened.


	4. Chapter 4

Chapter 4

He had surprised her with his choice. This was not the usual police haunt. It wasn't dark and small and full of drunk cops playing pool and speaking too loudly to each other. This place was open air, an abundance of tables squeezed into a semi classy beer garden that bordered a street that brimmed with culture, nightlife and people of all ages. It was not what she'd been expecting, but it was a refreshing change and she loved it instantly. And on a night like this, when summer was just getting its confidence up, it seemed perfect. And she loved most of all how when they'd entered and found a small table just for the two of them in a corner, she didn't feel like a cop going out for post mortem drinks with her colleagues, where all they would do was drink away their sorrows and the horrors of their job and dissect further whatever case they were currently working on. No, tonight she just felt like a regular person – just like everyone else in the beer garden.

Of course old habits die hard, and they still sat there and discussed work related things, but it was different somehow. It wasn't furious and determined nor ambitious and crusade driven. It was simply conversation about their line of work. It didn't go too deep, and considering their deep seated history, this was often hard to achieve, so tonight it was a pleasant change.

Jen sat back in her seat and gave her midori and pineapple a twinkling stir with her straw. The heavy green liquer shuddered into the fresh glowing pineapple juice and she watched as the two liquids blended together.

"Hey I caught up with Ange the other day," she began, smiling in his direction. Ange and Nick probably wouldn't call each other friends these days, but Jen knew Nick was aware of the friendship she and Ange shared.

And she was right. He smiled back at her and took a sip of his beer. He had Ange to thank for bringing Jen into his life so he would gladly show some interest in Jennifer's conversation starter.

"Yeah? How's she going these days?" he asked out of genuine curiousity.

Jen nodded and smiled too. "She's good," was her reply. "Still waiting on the edge of her seat for Julian to propose, but you know."

Nick knew only too well. He and Julian got along famously, even though they often went months without seeing each other, and there had been a brief period back in the day when the four of them had become quite inseparable, trying out an array of Melbourne's restaurants, bars and pubs together and loving every moment of being a tight knit group who enjoyed each others company so much. Of course, that period had ended abruptly when the relationship between Nick and Jen fell apart at the seams, but Nick still remembered quite fondly the noisy, fun, laughter filled nights the four of them had shared. It all seemed like a lifetime ago now, and in many ways he missed it.

He chuckled suddenly at the thought of Ange being as subtle as a sledgehammer with Julian in her pursuit to get him to propose. "Always waiting for that little blue box isn't she?" he stated good naturedly.

"Yes," Jen agreed, letting out a chuckle of her own. They went silent for a few minutes after that, each contemplating the lives they had once had together and once shared with couples like Ange and Julian. It had seemed so easy at the time to go down that same road as their friends had, but it had never happened, and both still wondered to this day what it might've been like if they had.

Nick sensed Jen's feelings of doubt as to her future. She had randomly confided in him earlier that day, asking him if he found it odd that she was still unmarried and childless at her age. Like he always did, he had playfully put her down in a way that still made obvious his level of care for her. He understood only too well her worry, and knew long before she even mentioned it out loud that it was playing on her mind more than she cared to admit. He too felt similar pangs, but he knew not in quite the same way as a thirty something woman who lived and breathed her stressful and demanding job did.

"You don't have to go at the same pace as Ange does Jen," he reassured her quietly, placing a light hand atop hers on the wooden table. He still understood her probably better than anyone else in her life, even after all this time.

She nodded meekly in reply. "I know," she whispered, looking out over the trimmed hedge that bordered the beer garden and out onto the street.

When Jen returned home later that night, dutifully walked to her door by Nick, a message was waiting for her on the machine from Ange, confirming their next coffee date for a weeks time and wishing her a pleasant weekend. Jen smiled, promising herself she'd call her friend first thing in the morning.

She slept soundly through the night, not affected at all by the alcohol she'd drunk or the confused feelings she had over Nick.

Streets away Matt lay uncomfortably in bed, tossing and turning and cursing the insomnia that had lasted for weeks now. Never able to empty his mind of work, or Jen or Stanley or Jarvis or his own miserable failings in his role as sargeant, he would be lucky to catch a few hours of shut eye just before dawn.


	5. Chapter 5

Chapter 5

The next morning Jen found herself rising early despite the fact she had gotten to bed late the night before. She had the entire day to herself to do whatever she pleased, and stepping out of bed and into the bathroom, she was determined to make it a great one. Within ten minutes she was dressed and pulling on her running shoes and detangling her ipod earphones as she stepped out her front door.

She ran for a solid 45 minutes, pounding the pavement in the satisfying way that only came from being fit and healthy. As she so often did, she had become so lost in a world of just putting one foot in front of the other, not really taking a particular route, and found herself quite far from home when she slowed her run down to a walk. She plodded along the footpath, catching her breath again, and skipping songs on her ipod to reach a favourite tune. When she stopped at a busy intersection and waited to cross, she realised how close she was to Matt's house. They weren't really the type of friends to pay social visits to each other very often, but she headed in the direction of his house anyway, feeling a need to see how he was after she had left him looking so forlorn the night before at the lifts.

When she reached the right house she tugged at the earphones and they fell from her ears. Scrunching up the long cord, she shoved them into her pocket and walked up the drive. It wasn't the place she remembered. She had not been at the house since…gosh, since she had returned from counter terrorism. It lacked a spark it had had that night and it was obvious in every area. The crawling weeds that invaded the crevices of bricked drive way. The unraked leaves on the lawn. The flower beds and window boxes that had once played host to a bright array of petunias and daisies but which were now just soil with a few remnants of dry, brown dead stalks.

Jennifer knocked on the door, looking at her watch as she did so. It was only just after nine. He should be awake. Coppers habits are hard to break. She knew not a single member who could sleep in on days off. They just weren't programmed that way anymore. Too many years on the job and too many pre dawn starts and early morning callouts had rendered their sleeping patterns ruined.

Yes, he should be up by now, even if it was his day off.

The door opened slowly and revealed a poor looking, sleepy creature clad in striped pyjama pants and a ratty grey tshirt. Jen couldn't help but stare. Matt rubbed at his eyes and managed to pull together a hello, although it came out croaky and hoarse.

"Hey Jen." It was not the kind of greeting that fitted in with her so far fantastic morning. She didn't know what to say, so it took her a moment to respond.

"Sorry," she cringed slightly. "Did I wake you?"

He opened the door further and flattened himself against it, gesturing for her to enter. "Nah nah," he replied. "I just crashed on the couch last night…I wasn't really sleeping." He was certainly awake now, she observed. He straightened his shirt, trying to neaten his appearance in front of his colleague.

"Oh," she looked around, wondering why she felt so uncomfortable around him all of a sudden. This was not what she'd been expecting.

"Do you want a coffee or something?" he asked, heading for the kitchen, leaving her standing awkwardly in the middle of his foyer, fiddling with the hem of her own shirt, not knowing what else to do.

"Sure," she called out as he disappeared into the kitchen. She looked to her left and into the living area. She could see where he'd been sleeping – a cushion, still with Matt's head impression in it, was perched precariously at the head of one of the two seater lounges and a fringed light weight blanket sat in a crumpled heap on the floor where it had clearly fallen when he had kicked it off to get up to answer the door.

But that didn't make her as uneasy as the next sight that she came across did. Shoved underneath the coffee table, only just peaking out, were two bottles of scotch. She frowned. Matt wasn't that kind of drinker, she knew. What was going on? Was the coffee table some vain attempt to hide the alcohol? Or was it just _there_? Why was it there?

Matt re entered the room and handed Jennifer a steaming mug of coffee. She accepted it with a closed lipped smile, unsure of how to broach her concerns.

"Don't worry," he said, a dull tone to his voice. "I haven't even opened them."

They both stared at the stash at their feet.

"Are you ok Matty?" she threw the question out there. She wanted to say how different he seemed these days, how unfamiliar and abnormal he appeared, but didn't dare say any of that, for fear of being too blunt.

He answered without saying a word. He just nodded his head and sat down , cradling the coffee mug lightly in his hands.

"They're sending me to therapy Jen," he laughed – a laugh so fake sounding that Jen knew immediately it was an attempt to cover up how he was really feeling.

But _therapy?_ What? She perched herself on the couch beside him. She looked critically at his face, now highlighted so harshly by the strong sunlight that was beaming through the front window. He looked worn out, and she felt a pang of guilt inside her chest that berated her for not being a better friend and being there for him much earlier than now.

"What?" she sounded dumbfounded in her response. She simply couldn't find the right words to fit their situation.

Matt nodded as he sighed and looked at her with an accepting look. "Yep," his voice lowering an octave. "Had my first session with the lovely Jo yesterday." He still had that element of denial in his voice, like he was trying to make out like it was all a joke and he wasn't taking it seriously. "Not what I expected a psychologist to be like, let me tell ya."

But he couldn't meet her eyes. He stared off out the front window and onto the street as she racked her brain for the right kind of response. She had never been placed in a situation like this before, and certainly not with a colleague. She was so unsure of how to handle it. All that came out of her mouth was the one question she was most curious to have an answer for.

"Why?"

"Oh why do you reckon Jen?" he asked. He didn't say it with spite, despite the words he'd chosen. He was never the type to start a fight, and she knew it. And he would never speak to her in a tone that he reserved only for the filth they met in the interview room. "Because I don't have what it takes to be a sergeant, that's why."

She recognised the change in his voice instantly. "Well I'd rather you go see a psychologist than down that stuff every night." She cocked her head toward the sinister stash of booze at their feet. "What did you even buy it for?"

He shrugged aimlessly. "Just in case."


	6. Chapter 6

Chapter 6  
A week later everything had changed. Nick sat, tense and agitated, in the back of a taxi. Beside him sat Jennifer. Together they knew what was going to happen. They were no strangers to the quick spiriting away of undercover officers – wiped from the board in one swift movement and into a life alone, in danger, undercover. Living and breathing their jobs even more than they already did.  
The driver gave Nick a knowing look as he dropped them off outside their new home. Nick remembered how hard it had been last time to keep track of the people they'd worked with. Was this a member of SIS posing as a taxi driver or really just a taxi driver? Being undercover was such a mysterious little game that Nick could never be sure as to everyone's true identities or intentions.  
The house was hardly inspiring, and felt all too familiar Nick as he walked through its handful of rooms. He and Jen had unconsciously trained themselves last time to just adjust to their surroundings and deal with it. It was the only way to get through the day, and the quicker they adjusted the easier it was. But a little part of Nick always had trouble adjusting. He wondered how it could seriously be happening again. Being taken in the way they had was like being taken to a concentration camp – you were never quite sure what was going to happen and if you were ever going to be released. Worse than that, you wondered if you'd even get out alive.

He held out his hand and she didn't hesitate to grab it with the same sense of trust he had always felt from her last time.  
"Are you ready for this?" he asked, his head bowed, his voice deadly serious. "Once I make the call there's no backing out."  
She nodded in such a way that showed only the slightest hint of hesitation. "Make the call." Her eyes were cold and concentrating as she fixated on his as he dialled the mobile phone and spoke to the one person they thought they'd never have to contact again.

As she lay beside him, nights later, once again finding it impossible to sleep, Jen's mind drifted back to the last time they had been asleep like this, in foreign dingy quarters, with no sense of normalcy attached to their lives whatsoever. She had been right when she had told him that this time it would be different, in the mental sense anyway – they were four years older, four years more experienced, four years more weary and had spent almost four years apart since last time. Even the place they were now holed up in bore little resemblance to where they had been last time.  
Four years ago the opportunity had come up out of the blue. Working undercover was one of those unspoken parts of being a police officer. Every police officer thought about it, but didn't discuss it. You didn't make noises about wanting to work undercover, and you didn't make noises if you already were working undercover. It was all very hush hush, leaving a constant trail of uneasiness and almost a level of distrust amongst the group – each wondering who had a secret undercover life and who didn't.  
Jennifer thought back over how it had all come to be. She remembered the way Angela had nagged her every day for a week about coming to the New Years Eve party she was planning at Julian's house. And the way a triumphant and devilish smile had spread across Ange's face when Jen had finally given in and told her she would make an appearance, just to shut her up.  
At the time she had no idea that just a month earlier Angela and Nick had been forced to work together during a court appearance and hit it off only because, Angela felt, Nick was so perfect for her friend. She eagerly awaited the time when she could bring the two of them together and the party was the perfect place to do it.  
She had urged Jennifer to dress up for the occasion, insisting that it wasn't going to be just your usual coppers and lawyers party. She was so insistent that as the afternoon of the party approached and Jennifer was receiving constant text messages from her zany best friend, offering suggestions about a skirt or a dress or a pair of shoes or what kind of champagne she should bring, Jennifer slowly but surely got the jitters and went into a frenzy diving into her closet and trying to come up with the perfect thing to wear and the perfect pair of shoes to match. Angela had so convinced her that this would be a party to remember that she went to extra effort glamming herself up – so much extra effort that she rocked up to Julian's house more than an hour late.  
_Jennifer walked around the side of the house, carefully making her way down the dark footpath in her black pumps, and closer to the sound of voices and music. Who knew if she would know anyone else at the party? She felt a little self conscious at the thought of walking into the yard alone, but as soon as she did and Ange's eyes zeroed in on her she knew she needn't have worried. Ange always had these things covered.  
She held her champagne flute aloft as she wound her way through the crowd of people who milled around the yard and made a beeline for Jennifer. "Jen!" she exclaimed when she reached her. She leant over to give her a peck on the cheek and a tight squeeze. She grinned at her with a look of mischief and fun in her eyes and Jen momentarily wondered how much her best friend had already had to drink, or if the look had been placed there by something else.  
Angela used her free hand to turn Jennifer around, urging her to show off the strapless blue dress that ended just above her knees that she had decided to wear after much debate sitting on the bedroom floor that afternoon. "What a knockout you are tonight!" she exclaimed, still grinning. Jennifer felt herself relax upon hearing the compliment. Ange could always put her at ease. And she knew that her dress was a winner.  
Ange reached down and grabbed Jennifer's hand. "Come on, let me introduce you round!" she said excitedly. She shoved her flute into Jennifer's free hand. "Here, have this," she offered. "It'll get you started. You have plenty to catch up on!"  
They plunged into the crowd and over to where Julian stood with a small group of people by the back patio. Angela rushed through a flurry of introductions with the group before she got to the last one, where she finally slowed down and took a breath. Grabbing Jen's hand again she urged her to pay full attention to the last member of the party she had yet to meet. Jen turned slightly away from the rest of the group, obliging Angela's directing.  
"Jen this is Nick Buchanan," she said, beaming over at the tall handsome detective. "Nick, this is Jen Mapplethorpe."  
The first thing she noticed weren't his eyes, nor his ripped upper body. It was his entire face – the way it curved and creased and immediately took her breath away. She didn't think she had ever seen a more friendly looking face.  
He stuck out his hand politely and she shook it. "Great to meet you Jen," he offered with a charming smile. "Angela has told me probably more than you wanted me to know about you." He smiled.  
Jen shot a look at her best friend, who still stood sheepishly by her side. She wasn't even feeling bad enough for leading Jen into this trap to hide the look on her face that said 'my work here is done'.  
Jen looked back at Nick and smiled, not allowing Ange to win completely. "Good to know, thanks Nick. I'll strangle her later." He laughed and within moments they were left alone by Angela as she flitted off to grab more champagne.  
They made small talk for a few minutes before branching off to other areas of the yard and to other people. But they seemed to continue to drift back to each other and just before midnight they found themselves again locked in deep conversation over by the bar. When Nick offered to get her another drink she gratefully accepted and as he turned away to retrieve her choice, Angela darted over, leaning in to whisper to her without Nick hearing.  
"You better be kissing him at midnight," was all she said.  
Jennifer rolled her eyes and pushed her friend away seconds before Nick turned back around and handed her another glass of champagne. She smiled and took it from his hands, thanking him. They picked back up their conversation from where they had left it off, but only minutes later they came to an abrupt halt as the rest of the yard began shouting the countdown to the new year.  
They looked at each other, both smiling shyly, and fidgeted with their drinks, feeling awkward. But when the clock struck twelve, they both threw caution to the wind and, much to Angela's delight, shared a brief but passionate kiss.  
Nick knew it was the beginning of something big._

Angela's plan seemed destined to succeed when early in the new year Nick was transferred into Jennifer's department and they begun to work under each others noses every day. Jennifer was incredibly weary about office relationships – in fact she was weary about most things the older she got – and had made little effort to approach Nick since the party in any capacity other than for work. He respectfully kept his distance, just waiting for the right moment. He wasn't sure if he wanted anything to happen either. But they quickly became an unbreakable and heavily relied upon team of two, one who made the brass upstairs thrilled at their gamble to put the two young coppers together in the same department and brimming over with ambitious plans for the glamorous looking duo.

Jennifer adjusted her position in amongst the sheets, turning her head to look at the digital clock that sat on the nightstand. 2:47am – she had laid awake for almost three hours now. As she sighed, exasperated at it all, she felt Nick's arm smooth over her hip and come to rest in the same place it had always found whenever they had shared a bed. She wondered if he even realised he was doing it sometimes, because he was always sound asleep. But a little part of her liked it – it was clearly an unconscious movement, something he just did naturally, even in slumber.  
He had always slept with his arms around her last time. She knew that he felt the need to protect her due in part to her confiding in him on day one of their first stint in undercover together how unprepared and unsure she felt about the exercise. She had felt the need to get it off her chest and there was no one else to tell. SIS were not going to listen and even if they did, they had little sympathy – all they cared about was that she had signed the bit of paper and was prepared to do the dangerous job they had asked her to. She had not been able to talk to her mother or her friends or any of their colleagues. It was Nick or nobody.  
And after everything they'd been through last time, she couldn't quite imagine how life would be without him. If not for her Ange's orchestrated scheming, they would never have met, then worked so well together that their colleagues and superiors noticed instantly their genius as a team. They would never have been hand picked by SIS due to this close working relationship they had managed to attain in only months when most people took years to achieve the same level of trust and closeness. They never would've been forced to trust their lives so completely to each other because of the dangerous situations they constantly found themselves in. They never would've formed a bond and a friendship so strong and so unbreakable that it became the yardstick by which they both measured all their other friendships up against, and were never, ever surprised when they didn't meet the high standards they both shared. And they never would've been tracked down by SIS, years after the first time, and asked to again risk their lives.  
As if they didn't do that everyday in their jobs anyway. But undercover was so very different. Especially this time. This time they did know each other. This time they did not have guns. This time the stakes were higher. This time they were much more aware of the danger they were in. And this time they knew they had fallen for each other just as quickly as they had the last time.  
Jennifer wondered how she could fall for the same man, twice. It seemed odd. Maybe she had never stopped from last time, and now the feelings had just been bumped back up to the surface. But had she really been supressing it for four years? All it had taken was him saying that he still felt the same way for her as he had the last time, standing at the window, looking so forlorn and maybe even slightly ashamed to admit that he still harboured these feelings for her. How could she resist a statement like that? She had reached for him in a way she hadn't done in such a long time, only to have the moment ruined by a set up that knocked the two of them back into reality, albeit only momentarily. But in the split second that they had both thought their lives were over, guns thrust into their skulls by screaming men disguised in balaclavas, they knew that the flame had been lit again.  
Still, she worried about it. How would they explain all this to their families, their friends, their colleagues, when it was over? Having an undetermined amount of time to think about it didn't help. Who knew how long they would be stuck at number 11, out in the suburbs, sleeping in this tiny bed with its ugly furniture and Big Brother surveillance cameras mounted in every corner of every room?  
Last time it had been hard enough to explain to their parents and friends just where they had been for all of Melbourne's bitter winter. But they had had to make up an excuse – they had signed the secrecy act and Jennifer would rather lie to her loved ones about her whereabouts for three months than go against the act and find herself in jail for even longer. She had mumbled something to her mother about needing to get away and that she had met Nick whilst overseas. It was lucky that Nick was such a charmer and such a genuinely warm and lovely guy, because it meant that her family and friends didn't protest too loudly when she announced they were going to marry just a few months later.  
Looking back she could now see why they had never got past the engagement stage. They had hurried into it, still blinded by what had happened undercover and not at all prepared for how difficult, and different, life would be when they went back to the old lives they had left behind.  
Too much had happened undercover. They had promised too much to each other.


	7. Chapter 7

Chapter 7

_It was supposed to be just an informal meeting. It wasn't even with anyone they had come to think of as dangerous. Nick had not felt a single drop of doubt or nerves as they had made their way by foot into the city centre. Jennifer, he was sure, had felt the same. He had spent the past two weeks reassuring her that maybe undercover wouldn't be as bad as she had feared. He had seen her slowly come round, growing in confidence with each day that passed, each mission that was pulled off successfully and each contact they managed to convince of their identities._

_So when, half way through the meeting, their cappuccinos drunk and the discussion getting heavy, the contact began to change the tone of his voice and fidget with his phone on the table top, Nick and Jennifer were taken by surprise. Jennifer looked out of the corner of her eye at Nick and they silently agreed to wind it up._

_Jennifer leaned over the table and tried to plaster onto her face what she hoped was a convincing smile. "There's no need to make a decision today," she volunteered. "Let's meet again tomorrow and finalise the details then." She stood up to shake hands with the man, and Nick joined her._

"_I might not be able to do tomorrow," their contact said hoarsely, frowning at them. "But I will be in touch."_

"_Of course," Nick replied. "Whenever works for you." He figured being easy to get along with would encourage more trust to be placed in he and Jennifer by these petty criminals._

_They parted ways and Nick and Jennifer walked back down the street towards the train station a few blocks away. Taking a short cut down a lane way Nick squeezed Jennifer's hand briefly. "See that wasn't that bad was –"_

_His sentence was cut short by a walloping thud that propelled Jennifer forward. He grabbed for her, collecting her flailing limbs in his arms awkwardly. He bent his knees, trying to catch her before she hit the ground, but buckled under the weight of her tumbling frame he had not been expecting to fall. As they both fell clumsily to the ground, Nick felt his left hand come into contact with what could never be mistaken as anything other than blood. Its warm sticky texture made his skin crawl as he grappled with Jennifer, trying to right his stance. He finally focussed properly on her and saw for the first time the bullet wound just above her left collarbone. The amount of bleeding it was creating made up for the silence in which it had been inflicted. Nick cursed at that exact moment whoever it was who had invented silencers – they too often caught cops unawares._

"_Jen," he breathed urgently. He cradled her in his arms, bent down on his knees beside her in the wet side street. In the panic of the moment he fleetingly thought what a horrible place this was for Jennifer to die – so dark and dreary, secluded and horrible, the drains overflowing and the bitumen of the road littered with rubbish and cigarette butts. He looked around helplessly, anything to not get the distressed look that was on Jennifer's face burnt into his brain. Of course he knew that a bullet wound that was more of a graze than a hole was not going to see her die in these squalid conditions, but the mind played horrible tricks on some in dangerous situations such as these._

_Then without warning a car Nick recognised as belonging to SIS screamed into the laneway, skidding dangerously in the wet. Two men jumped out and silently helped Nick to delicately lift Jennifer into the back seat. Unconscious now, she was placed in the middle of the backseat, her head and shoulders across Nick's legs and her calves draped awkwardly across the lap of one of her SIS rescuers._

_Nick looked down at her in horror as they sped away, his mind not keeping up with the pace of the situation. He had instinctively slipped his hands underneath her back and shoulders as they had been bundled into the car, trying in vain to support her wounded shoulder. But within moments he felt his arms tense up and cramp from the uncomfortable way in which he was forced to hold her._

_Nobody talked in the car and Nick found his voice to be uncharacteristically choked up whenever he tried. He could only assume they were being taken to a hospital, and so waited as they made their way there. But as they sped through the streets of Melbourne, the driver a stealthy master of defensive driving, swinging them gently but quickly down alleyways and lanes, avoiding the business of the CBD whilst still maintaining a smooth ride for their injured backseat passenger, Nick quickly began to recognise his surroundings again – they weren't going to the hospital. They were going back to the tiny flat he and Jennifer had shared for the last two weeks._

_He leant forward in his seat, angry and confused, and trying not to bulster Jennifer. "What are you guys doing?" he demanded. "Why aren't you taking us to the hospital? She's been shot!"_

_They turned to face him from the front of the vehicle. "A nurse will be over within the hour. We can't risk taking you to the emergency room – I'm sorry." _

_They didn't sound sorry. Their reply, as always, was cold and unfeeling. He and Jennifer were just numbers, not real people. Nick fumed as he settled back into his seat, shooting the three of them death stares for the rest of the journey anytime they dared to glance over at him. He was so shocked at their lack of care for their operative that he was stunned into silence, unable to come up with any words to accurately portray his anger. Coupled with the anger he directed at himself – for being so clueless and so casual about the afternoon's mission, naively thinking it had all gone so well and that they were in no danger before, during or after the conversation at the café, and, like an amateur, placing their lives in such danger when he had suggested they take a short cut to the train station down the deserted lane way – he felt hopelessly to blame and entirely at fault for Jennifer having been wounded in his presence._

_Forced to switch to automatic mode, a mode he had slowly gotten used to as he and Jennifer had adjusted to their lives in the tiny home, when they pulled into the undercover carpark underneath the very ordinary block of flats that he and Jennifer now called home, he didn't question the level of empathy displayed by the team of drivers when they stopped the car only momentarily to help Nick offload Jennifer. He didn't take his hands off her as they all pulled her gently from the car, and then held her more securely in his arms as they drove away. _

_He couldn't believe the situation he now found himself in. How had they gone from being two young cops working so often from behind their desks to being a 'married couple' undercover, meeting with weapons specialists, faking a business and being shot at by unknown persons? Nick looked down at Jennifer's pale face in his arms and took a sharp breath in. This was not the time to grapple with unanswerable questions. He gathered her more comfortably in his arms and carefully made his way up the red brick steps of the small stairwell that led to their ground floor flat. Her head lolled from side to side with every jolt of movement as her unresponsive body weight put the muscles in Nick's arms to the test._

_This was not meant to be a one person job, he thought to himself as he propped her lifeless form against his chest and wrapped his right arm tightly around her waist as he dug into his pocket with his left hand to get out the key he had slipped in there earlier in the day. They fell through the door, Nick stumbling under the exertion and he folded onto the floor of the hallway unwillingly. She was beginning to come to as he held her in the dark little flat, just waiting for the nurse he'd been promised, but whom he wasn't sure would ever show. He hoped with every fibre of his being that someone would come for them though, because for the first time in his career he didn't know what the hell to do._


	8. Chapter 8

Chapter 8

Nick awoke as the sun did, and had to spend several moments in a semi conscious daze with his face half smushed into his pillow before he remembered where exactly he was and who he was here with. But when he felt the slight body underneath his hand he remembered. She lie asleep under his hold, but he knew, just from the tiny frown that was on her face, that she had spent much of the night awake. He moved in closer next to her, and plunged his hand deeper into the blankets, holding her body close to his own. He bowed his head and placed a feather light kiss on her tshirted shoulder – so light that she didn't even notice it.

As he kissed it he remembered how since that day he had let his guard down four years ago and allowed her to be shot, she had always slept with her left arm exposed. At first it had been simply to avoid the pain that came with lying on her left side, as this placed too much pressure on the wound and caused too much discomfort. But as the weeks had gone on and her wound had healed, she had continued to lie with her left shoulder facing the ceiling, and he had continued to cradle and dutifully protect the area that he had allowed to be wounded with his own body, even though it no longer caused her pain and he no longer needed to play nurse. It was just the routine they had settled into.

He wondered if they would be lying in this bed for a couple of weeks or worse, a couple of months. Either way, he knew this time it would be different. He knew he still felt for her the way he had before, but they were so much older and wiser now. Last time they had been so young. And three months was a long time to be locked in a tiny one bedroom flat with no one but each other for company. He had fallen head over heels for her so quickly, an infatuation that had been just dying to expand since they had started working together after the new years eve party. As a young impressionable new detective, it hadn't taken long for Jen to feel the same way about him, especially after the incident in the laneway and despite her weariness about office hook-ups. They just felt such an inate sense of trust with each other that couldn't be explained.

The instructions had been given explicitly. They were to 'step it up a notch'. There weren't being asked to step it up – they were being told to. And the lack of breathing space did not sit well with Nick or Jen. When Dom left, they retreated to the bedroom to discuss their plan.

Jennifer stood by the door, uncertain, as Nick gathered a few meagre belongings together. Work alone? They had never done that before. She had thought that neither of them was prepared to lose the other, but perhaps she had been wrong. A feeling of uneasiness washed over her as she watched him prepare to go out alone. She wasn't sure which was more dangerous – him going alone or her remaining in the house by herself, weaponless, paranoid and afraid.

She bent over the clock radio, cranking up the sound as high as it would go to cover any last words she may feel the need to say to him before he left. She straightened back up and approached him, straightening his collar. He looked at her closely, trying to read what she was thinking in her eyes. He knew she needed a guarantee to put her at ease.

"I go to Hartono," he said. "I give him the message and then I come back. End of story." He didn't intend to perform any heroics. He was about as eager as she was to do this.

She nodded solemnly and watched him exit the room. "Wait," she called out, as calm as she could.

He looked back, the stress evident on his face.

All she wanted was for him to come back safely. She didn't have to say it. He knew.

"I know."

Jennifer walked through the rooms of the house slowly, occasionally looking up at where she knew the cameras were. Their presence did not make her feel any more safe. Sure, they showed those at SIS what was going on in the house, but there was always the time delay. If something happened at the house, they wouldn't see it on their screens for several seconds, and the time could stretch to minutes before they could deploy someone to come to her rescue. It was a sobering thought.

Stopping in the kitchen, she slipped the pair of scissors from their wooden block holder and carried them back to the table. How many times have I grabbed a pair of scissors when I've had no other weapon to protect myself? She thought to herself bitterly. Her suit of armour was beginning to soften and warp – there was only so much stress and take your breath away danger that a human being could stand.

She spread her hands on the table, observing the way the bones on the top of her hands were taught and tense, and the veins puffy and raised. She sat there all afternoon, waiting for Nick to return.


	9. Chapter 9

Chapter 9

"Do you find your line of work hard Matt?" she asked as their session entered its second hour. Jo was a gorgeous blonde with perfect teeth and skin and the most ever ready smile Matt had ever seen. She didn't fit the mould of a psychologist. But then he didn't fit the mould of a detective either did he?

He was sure she was qualified and professional, but he could tell that even she was now grappling at anything she could to get him to open up. The first hour had been as silent as the entire first session they had shared the week previous, and something needed to give.

"Hard?" he repeated, locking eyes with her.

She nodded, waiting for his answer.

"No," he mused. "I don't find it hard. Just…testing." Testing was exactly the right word and he was glad he had thought of it. He could never find a job he loved this much hard, but it was definitely testing, even at the best of times, and it had been especially this year. It was something he constantly struggled with.

Jo looked at Matt and seemed about to continue down the vein of his work but decided to detour at the last second. "What's happened since I last saw you? What's really bothering you?" She seemed so desperate for answers.

Matt sighed loudly and put a hand up to rub his eyes tiredly. "Two of my colleagues have gone undercover," he admitted under sufferance. "I haven't seen them for days."

"Are you worried about them?" Jo probed.

Matt nodded whole heartedly. "And frustrated at being kept in the dark. I thought Jen and I were better friends than that…" he trailed off.

"Is your friendship with Jen not what it used to be?"

_Was it? _

"Not since Nick came along," was all Matt would provide.

"And Nick is also undercover right now?" Jo asked, reading his mind.

Matt nodded unhappily.

"They think that I haven't noticed what's been happening," Matt whispered furiously. "That I won't suspect anything when they leave the office at the same time, or disappear undercover for god knows how long." He sat up straighter in his chair and leant his elbows on the tops of his thighs. "But I do Jo," he insisted earnestly to her, even though she didn't need convincing. "I saw the way they would share a mug of coffee without even realising they were passing it backwards and forwards between each other as we talked about a case. I saw the way they immediately buddied up when this case started. I saw the way they would talk with their heads bent close in the kitchen and then stop whenever anyone walked into the room." His voice suddenly lowered as his mind flashed back to the night Jen had returned from counter terrorism.

_Emma pulled up the doona just long enough to slip herself underneath the dark abyss and in close to Matt. He smiled adoringly at her, reaching an arm around her shoulders as they settled back against the pillows._

"_Have Jen and Nick met before?" she asked as she got comfortable against the pillows._

_Matt frowned and shook hi s head. "I don't think so…why?"_

_Emma shrugged in return. "I dunno," she pondered. "Just the look on her face when he came over tonight. She said she'd never met him, but I dunno…" she shook her head as if trying to lighten the weight of her confusion over the nights events. "What she said and the look on her face were two totally different things."_

"I should've connected the dots," he muttered more to himself than to Jo. "It was so obvious all along. It's only now that I've realised it."


	10. Chapter 10

Chapter 10  
As they seemed to every night, Nick and Jennifer lay awake beside each other long after they had crawled into the bed they shared. Their mood was tense, and little was spoken. Jennifer had made her feelings clear earlier as they had gotten ready to turn in for the night. The afternoon spent waiting for him to return had rattled her more than she cared to admit. She was determined that they never be split up again. But to her disappointment, Nick had not seemed so concerned about their teamwork skills. As they laid beside each other the silence was almost deafening.  
But still, when Nick's mobile beeped, they leaned their heads in close to read the message together. They were still partners after all. Still Trish and Wesley, even if there was no one at that moment watching them be these actors. They were still undercover, together, and so they read the text message, together. And suddenly their plans for the next day were set.  
An hour later they were both still staring at the ceiling, lost in worlds plagued by uncertainty and fear – worlds that wouldn't allow them to fall asleep at night easily.  
"I wonder how Matt's going," Jennifer thought aloud as she adjusted her position under the blankets.  
Nick's only reply was a muffled grunt, and Jennifer was reminded again of how little Nick thought of their colleague. He just didn't have the same level of respect for Matt that she did and she could only assume it was because he and Matt didn't share the long standing friendship that she and Matt did. But his uncaring attitude annoyed her and she turned to face him in the dark.  
"He's not in a good way at the moment Nick," she insisted, trying to get a little bit of compassion out of him.  
He shrugged his shoulders at her as he turned onto his side to face her as well. "He knew this was what it would be like when he came back as sergeant." His words were blunt and unsympathetic and grated at Jennifer. "It was his choice Jen."  
She frowned, hard. "He's doing his best," she whispered angrily.  
Nick's expression remained unchanged and he simply shrugged his shoulders at her again. He wasn't going to agree with her just to make her happy. He stood by his own opinions.  
But it wasn't the answer Jen wanted to hear. It irritated her the way he didn't seem willing to make much of an effort to be friends with Matt the way the rest of the team did. Reaching her limit on worrying for the day, she let out a small, exasperated sigh and rolled back over so that she didn't have to look at him anymore, staring instead at the tiny crack of street she could see where the curtains didn't quite meet at the window.  
She folded her hands under her pillow and tried to will herself to sleep. She closed her eyes and promised herself she wouldn't open them again until morning. She'd had enough of today.  
She knew that he wouldn't be able to hold back for too long though. It only took fifteen minutes of her giving him the cold shoulder for him to shuffle over and offer a wordless apology. He always did it the same way – cuddling close to her from behind and smoothing his warm hands over her limbs. He was the most affectionate person she'd ever known, not afraid to dish out tender touches and passionate kisses whenever he felt the need to show her how he felt about her, and tonight was no different. And besides, they'd always slept closely like this, especially when they were undercover. The closer to each other they were the safer they felt. It was a habit they had formed very quickly.


	11. Chapter 11

Chapter 11

The outdoor mall was not as busy as Nick had been hoping it'd be. There were a smattering of shoppers and children, going about their usual afternoon routines, but it was too early in the day for school kids or office workers leaving their buildings. Nick felt uneasy as he walked with Jen towards Hartono's shop. He wanted to reach down and hold her hand, to make the both of them feel safer, but he was unsure if they were still stuck in the awkward phase that had unfolded when he had disagreed with her over Matt's well being. So instead he walked briskly towards the shop with her, his hands at his sides swinging slightly, exchanging short sharp conversation bites as they walked, their anxiousness hitting epic levels the closer they got to their target. Without the warm and longed for distraction of holding her hand, Nick suddenly seemed able to focus so much more intricately on every detail around him, which was of course helpful in an undercover mission, but which wreaked havoc on his nerves. Sensations bombarded every part of him – the smell of bread from the bakery, the crying of a baby from a pram nearby, the sound of music coming from a cd store to his left and the clattering of crockery from the outdoor diners at his right. He felt overwhelmed and felt it reach such a high level within so quickly that he turned to Jennifer, unable to hide his fear any longer. He opened his mouth to inform her of his pitiful ability to be brave.

But she got in before him. "Nick," she whispered urgently out of the corner of her mouth. She had stopped in the middle of the pathway but when he stopped too they melted as a pair into a tourist shop front, crowded with fake boomerangs and tea towels on racks. She looked at him anxiously. "I don't feel right about this." Her eyes darted around wildly, over his shoulder one second and then over her own the next. "I feel like we're walking into a trap." She drew in a breath and didn't let it go as she waited for his response.

He nodded solemnly, not leaving himself even a second to marvel at the way she had just read his mind. "Yeah, something's not right," he replied, his voice even more of a whisper than hers. He knelt to the ground, pretending to look at the tacky magnets stuck to a rotating rack next to them. She followed suit and the move provided them with a minute breather that hid them from the view of most of the malls occupants.

They bent their heads in close, forgetting their previous disagreements. Jennifer looked to Nick for direction, so unsure of what to do. It was a frustrating contradiction to what she _wanted _to feel – after last time she had grown annoyed at his constant smothering of her, making her feel like a damsel in distress, and it had been one of the many reasons they had broken off their engagement. But this time the feeling of unease walking down the mall had hit her with such force that she suddenly felt empty and helpless, like a child suddenly separated from their parents and not knowing which way to turn.

"We need to get out of this area," Nick supplied. He felt as uncertain as she did, but was trying to take the lead anyway. One of them had to, and the look in her eyes told him she didn't have a clue – all that she knew was that something was going to go awry if they continued on with their original plans.

He bent his head down even lower, dropping his eye line to the pavement, trying to think of where they could go. At the same time though, he felt the need to keep them moving, regardless of which direction they headed. They could not remain crouched in this tacky little store all afternoon.

By now Nick didn't care. He reached for her hand and held it tightly as they stood up. It was still warm and he admired the way it wasn't trembling the way his was. Her skin was smooth and her thin fingers delicate and so feminine – a feature of hers he had always loved.

They straightened back up and worked in silent unison as they tried to look inconspicuous as they exited the shop and made their way back out into the mall. Without realising it, they had already fallen back into the team they had been during their last stint undercover. A team that worked so seamlessly together and didn't need to speak to know what the other was thinking or intended to do. Yet still they held hands.

They stepped out into the mall, less than a metre from the border the rotating racks of souvenirs in the shop created. Nick bent his head barely a degree to the right and Jennifer nodded her head back with even less movement. The escape route Nick had his eye on was not ideal, but he saw few other options around them. It was a tiny car park of just five bays, and only three of them were filled. But he saw a laneway at the car parks end, and had a vague idea of where it led.

But as soon as he heard the distinctly chilling sound of gunfire, he knew that it was too far for them to reach. Without time to look around, except to make sure Jen hadn't been struck, Nick took a huge leap to his right, yanking Jen along with him. He cowered as he leapt, bending his spine into an uncomfortably tense curve that reduced his height to half of what it was when he was standing upright. He banged his left knee hard on a large cement pot that housed a weak looking palm, and felt the pain shoot through his leg instantly. But he had little time to think about it as Jennifer's feet scrambled and scuffed beside him, already running, and encouraging him to follow. He heaved himself up, though not completely standing up straight again, and ran beside her as they looked for the nearest escape route. His eyes darted around with a frightening pace, almost blurring his vision. But he saw a twisted back alley at the last second and pulled Jennifer in its direction. They bolted for it, both focussing unwaveringly on their new target that would keep them alive, and as they took their first step out of the mall area and into the alley another shot rang out, this time causing loud screams and shouting from the members of the public who had been taken by surprise by the first shot and not reacted, but were now knocked back into consciousness at the sound of the second.

As they both lunged into the alley, their upper bodies falling forward with a heaving urgency as they willed their legs to go faster to get away from the shooter, Jennifer felt a stinging spray of red brick fragments on her cheek, a telltale sign that another five centimetres and the bullet would've likely struck her head instead of the brickwork at her right. The crumbly pieces of brick shuddered down her loose blue and white top as she ran and her skin crawled at the feeling. She shook her right arm with an intense agitation as she ran to try to shake the particles out of her clothing but had little success. The wind striking her body plastered her clothes to her, not allowing any of the brick pieces to escape.

"Nick!" she called out, stumbling along behind him. She could never get used to calling him Wesley, and at that very moment she wondered if that would eventually be their downfall. Small mistakes often had big consequences. They had just gotten lucky all the other times.

"Keep running!" he bellowed from ahead. He was holding her hand incredibly tight and she stumbled after him as they ran, taking every knock he had before her twice as hard as they bolted down the alley. When Nick was forced to do a long jumpers leap over a wooden crate and then only two steps later almost lost his footing in a pothole, Jennifer's arm was almost yanked out of its socket. But he never let go of her hand.

The alley bowed to the left sharply only a few metres ahead of them and as they approached Nick appreciatively took notice of the lack of gun shots being fired in their direction. The air was now free of the ugly sound they had encountered only seconds before. Breathing heavily, he almost believed they were out of danger but when he rounded the corner he swore violently in his head for being so naïve. He and Jen were suddenly faced with an obstacle so great that he couldn't stop the devastating feeling of defeat from hitting him smack bang between the eyes.


	12. Chapter 12

Chapter 12  
At first glance the obstacle was so great Nick was at a loss as to what to do. At second glance, just when he hoped something brilliant would come to him, it seemed just as hard.

The alley turned the corner and ended. Just like that. Nick cursed the architectual stupidity of the area and couldn't even look at Jen. He didn't want her to see his face. What stood before them was nothing but fifteen metres across of wall, three quarters of it devoted to the back of a shop and the other quarter to a section of brick fencing that featured a menacing line of barbed wire at its top.

They both looked at the back of the shop, wondering if there was an escape route there. A brightly painted wooden door was half open, revealing a tiled floor inside that paved a long hallway that was clearly the pathway to what sounded, and smelt like, an extremely busy restaurant kitchen. Nick wanted to use this escape route but knew instantly that it was a bad choice. It would likely only lead them back out into the mall and that was where they wanted to escape from the most.

He looked at Jen finally. They both knew the best route was not always the easiest. It was the wall or nothing. And neither of them had it in them to just give up and admit defeat, especially not in undercover. Giving up and admitting defeat in this game meant one thing: death.  
They made the decision only a split second after they had realised they needed to decide. Again, without speaking, they moved to the brick fence section of their barrier and Nick immediately bent his knees and crouched down a little. He laced his hands together and in one swift movement Jennifer placed her foot in his makeshift hold and hoisted herself up the wall with his help. He was strong enough to lift her almost all the way to the top but as she realised she was a little too far from the top of the bricks to make a clean getaway, she panicked and grabbed on desperately to the first thing within reach. Of course, there was nothing, because she was not close enough to reach the top of the fence. There was nothing but the rough exterior of the bricks. She slipped down half a metre, falling against the unforgiving brickwork and feeling her hands and exposed hip grate against the rough surface.

She gave a strangled grunt in pain and exertion and Nick, close to losing his balance, gave her another hoist in a final ditch effort to get her over the fence and hopefully into safety.

It worked, but not before she stabbed her hand on the barbed wire. She used all her strength to throw herself over the top, trying to avoid the menacing barbs. She flung her legs over quickly, not caring how she dropped to the bottom of the other side. It had to be better than the side she'd started on.

She landed with a thud a top a skip bin, feeling the wind be knocked out of her as her back smashed full force into the hard metal lid of the dumpster. Instantly her rib cage ached, screaming at her with the sudden jolt of pain inflicted upon it and she struggled to breathe for several moments.

She was thankful that her survival instinct took over quite smartly though, only a few seconds later, and she clambered off the top of the skip and onto the ground beside it, only then realising she had lost her bag somewhere in the last two minutes of frantic running for her life.  
She stood at the foot of the wall and looked up, expecting Nick to be right behind her.

On the other side Nick looked around him helplessly. There was nothing. Nothing to help him over. Why had he not realised this before? He was too intent on putting Jennifer first, getting her to safety, that he'd failed to notice the sparseness around him. There was not even a spare crate lying around to be his stepping stone. Nothing.  
He was suddenly left with only two choices. And two bad ones at that. He could use the door to the shop and run down the tiled hallway, hoping and praying that it might lead him somewhere safe, and somewhere where he could safely, and quickly, get back to Jen. Or he could go back down the alley and go back around the corner and grab the crate he had nearly fallen over when they had been running away.  
Like a guerrilla in the middle of a war, he wanted to stick to the shadows, not be seen, and hide away to ensure his safety. So he immediately threw the restaurant option out of the equation, even though he didn't know if once he rounded the corner to go back down the alley, the shooter would be there coming for him.

It was a risk he decided he'd have to take. He ran for the corner and rounded it without breathing. The crate was exactly where he'd leapt over it moments before, holding Jen's hand. As he bent down to pick it up he heard the footsteps. Heavy footsteps of a person he knew he didn't want to see. Nick stopped breathing and didn't straighten up again. Both his hands gripped the wooden crate. The only part of him that moved were his eyes. They went skyward, looking for the shooter to see how far away he was. He stayed infinitely still for several seconds. It was lucky that the alley was a mangled mess of twists and turns and was quite narrow down its entire length that the shooter was still quite a distance away. And Nick knew that it was possible to be so still that a person could go unnoticed by others. But this time it didn't work. The shooter saw Nick only a second after Nick saw him and started running for him. Nick hurled the crate at him with so much angry force that he even surprised himself, and was pleased to see it struck the shooter at the best possible angle it could have, and with enough force to make him fall to the ground, dropping his rifle.

It was undoubtedly Nick's opportunity to get out alive. He bolted back around the bend and hurled himself at the wall, jumping as high as he could and gripping into the jagged bricks so hard that his knuckles and fingers turned white and he actually felt the skin tearing in the small groove between the pointer and middle finger of his right hand. Ignoring it, he made his hands work against their cramping and tried desperately to climb the wall. He couldn't hear Jennifer on the other side, but was not worried – he knew that she knew enough not to make it known she was there by calling out his name, and he also knew that she would always wait for him in a situation like this. He had gone alone to meet Hartono the other day, and had not budged when Jennifer had protested, but this situation was radically different. They needed to stay together. But now it was just a matter of getting to her.

But the wall was too tall and there were not enough hand holds. He had no hope of scaling it without the help of the leg up he had hoped to get from the crate. So the only option left was the restaurant. He ran through the door and straight down the hallway, so unsure of where it would lead. Suddenly, he came to an intersection of sorts. Directly ahead of him was the main dining room of what was surely some kind of oriental restaurant. Ahead of him and slightly to the right was the service area – a small enclave of bench where diners could see into the kitchen and where waitstaff picked up plates from and delivered them to the patrons. And at his extreme right was the door to the kitchen. It was this door that he chose.

He slipped inside wordlessly and looked around. There were no other exits. His heart sunk. He did not want to go out into the dining room. It was too exposed. Plus, he had already wasted valuable seconds making his decisions already.

But then he saw the window. It was slightly bigger than the chalkboards he had learnt from in school. Made up of two panes of glass separated by steel frames, one side of it was open, allowing the muggy, spicy air of the kitchen to seep out into the outside world and mingle with the afternoon breezes. Nick ran for it.

Ignoring the shouts and shocked looks that came from the kitchen staff, Nick hoisted himself up onto the bench top, sending a cutting board of vegetables tumbling to the floor and causing a startled young apprentice to leap out of his way, his knife falling dangerously from his hands. Nick plunged his fist at the flywire of the open section of window. But it didn't budge. Desperately, he tried again, using all the force he could muster. It split. He clawed at it with both hands and ripped a hole big enough to put himself through.

And with that, he was gone, out of the kitchen and back into the outside world. He looked around him and was utterly relieved to find himself on what he assumed was the other side of that bloody wall. A skip bin stood silently at his right and another alley branched off to his left. But there was no Jennifer.


	13. Chapter 13

Chapter 13  
He could hear the shooter clattering through the kitchen in hot pursuit. Nick instinctively ran to his left, wondering how far he should go.  
"Nick!" It was her voice. No mistaking.

There she was, just up ahead, crouched at the side of yet another skip bin, fear written all over her face. He bolted for her and they clasped hands the second they were close enough to do so. They ran down the alley for a good thirty metres, trying to put plenty of distance between themselves and their pursuer. They could no longer hear him, but Nick felt certain he was not far behind them, and wasn't about to give up his hunt for them.

They ran the length of the alley together, and didn't think twice about running for the hills when the alley came to an end, quite a distance from the shopping strip they had begun their afternoon at. The ground petered off to a grassy slope before them and they ran down it awkwardly, losing their footing on more than one occasion. Unaware whether the danger that still felt so imminent was still chasing them, they ran for hundreds upon hundreds of metres, making their way into bushland that skirted the suburbs. Both felt the need to simply put as much space between themselves and the shooter as possible. In the frenzied moments since the pursuit had begun they could not make their brains think of anything more complex than to run. Just to run. And from somewhere deep inside they both found a superhuman strength they were not aware they even possessed, and were able to run faster, and for longer than they ever had before.

But Jennifer knew they had to stop sometime. When they ducked under an imposingly solid cement footbridge, sticking close to the supporting girders underneath it in a bid to blend into their surroundings, Jennifer suddenly stopped running. Her grip slackening in Nick's hand propelled him to stop running also and turn around and look at her.

His face glistened with a fine layer of sweat and his lips were dry and parched. His chest heaved and he doubled over as he looked at her, putting his free hand on his knee, getting his breath back.

"I think we've lost them," she stated, feeling just as wrecked from their physical exertion as he looked.

He nodded but said nothing, instead dropping her hand and edging towards the edge of one of the girders, where he placed his hands on the cool grey concrete and peaked around it into the openness of the suburbian fringe. A moment later he turned back to look at her. She stood patiently behind him, waiting for any kind of response.

"We need to know for sure," he explained. "I'll go up to the foot of the bridge and look out over the crest, to see if I can see them. If I can't I'll come straight back. If I can…you should make a run for it, and I'll meet up with you as soon as I can."

"Nick." Jennifer's voice wobbled as she allowed herself to show how upset she was at the thought of being split up in such a way. She looked at him forlornly, so afraid that she couldn't find the words to even explain it. There was nothing quite like being chased by a person with a gun. Especially when you were alone.

Nick stepped away from his lookout point and closer to her. He took both her hands from where they hung limply at her sides and bowed his head down to kiss her on the lips for the first time in almost four years. A barrage of memories of their previous life together cascaded through his mind during the seconds the kiss lasted. He tried to draw it out to make the feeling of such happy times last longer in his head. When he finally pulled away he looked deeply into her eyes.

"If I can see them, I'll give you a signal and I want you to run like buggery," he instructed quietly, their faces still inexplicably close. "We can't go back to number eleven – let's meet at your place. Whoever gets there first should wait for the other." Nick thought a little harder, forming a plan in his head as he went. "But if you're waiting longer than twelve hours, give up." Jennifer frowned at the two last words. But Nick continued. "Go then to my place instead."

Jennifer nodded solemnly at the instructions. It seemed as good a plan as any, even if she didn't like the sounds of it.

Nick looked back over his shoulder and dropped Jennifer's hands as he did so. They were ready. Nick crept back to the girder and edged closer out into the open. Before he took his final leap back into the sunshine and out from the shadows of the bridge he turned back to the woman his heart positively ached for every second of every day.

"Jen?" he called out quietly.

She looked up with a face so nervous she could feel the strain in her forehead and jaw.

"They can smell your fear," he whispered, deadly serious if ever she'd seen him. "Don't let them win this."

Jennifer nodded at his final instructions, even though the advice seemed useless at this point – her fear had been streaming out of her every pore since the minute they'd begun this undercover assignment. She couldn't stop it now.


	14. Chapter 14

Chapter 14

Nick scuttled up the embankment, further and further away from the underneath of the footbridge. The grass was damp and as chilly as it was a brilliant shade of green, which didn't take long to send goosebumps up his arms and across his chest. As he half crawled, half walked up the slope, his pain threshold suddenly remembered the earlier injury to his knee and made its presence known. He grimaced as he climbed, wanting to stop and tend to the injury, but knowing he could not.

When he reached the beginning of the bridge he crouched down by the post that marked the start of the pedestrian pathway. It was a terrible place to stop, and he felt hopelessly exposed. But there was nowhere else to stop at that moment. It gave him the best vantage point over the crest – over to where they'd just run away from. He scanned the area and felt relief start to seep through him as he saw no signs of danger.

He started crawling back down towards Jennifer when a flicker of movement to his right caught his eye. The relief he had felt just a second earlier had overtaken him so much that his first assumption was that it was just a bird in the trees. And that was what he so badly wanted to believe. But Nick knew that as a cop one could assume nothing. The minute he assumed something about anyone or anything was the minute he was wrong.

Another flicker of movement revealed a figure dressed all in black struggling through an opening in the cracked fence line less than two hundred metres from the bridge. Nick stopped breathing all together and looked, alarmed, back down at Jen. She was crouched at the foot of the girder, watching his every move, waiting for his signal to run.

And suddenly he gave it to her. With a snap of his head so tightly and so snappily to the side that under any other circumstances it would have caused pain, Nick told Jennifer to bolt. As she scrambled away, running in the opposite direction to which they'd come, Nick started running too, pounding his way across the footbridge, desperate to reach the other side – even though the other side presented little more safety than what his first side did. He came to a flight of stairs at the other side that led down to a train station platform. Out of peak hour it was eerily deserted, and Nick felt grateful that by going down there he would not be putting anyone else in danger, simply because there was nobody else around. He took the stairs two and three at a time and reached the bottom in a flash. He ran across the platform and, ignoring all the signs he had always abided by until this moment, he jumped from the platform and down onto the tracks. His feet crunched atop the grey stones that made up the railway bed and he had to keep his head down as he ran, to ensure that he didn't trip over the sleepers that made up the railway line. He ran and ran, not even sure if he was breathing at all anymore. All he could think about was getting away.


	15. Chapter 15

Chapter 15  
The longer Jennifer ran the safer she felt. She felt guilty feeling so pleased at this, because she knew that she was no longer in very much danger because Nick had taken the fall for her instead – being the one who voluntarily went up to the foot of the bridge, being the one who left the relative safety of the shadows.

She was surprised that fatigue had not yet hit her. She seemed easily able to keep running all night if she had to, because she didn't feel any weariness in her muscles or joints at all. She knew though that when she stopped it would hit her like a truck. She only hoped that by then she would be with Nick again.

She hadn't dared to look over her shoulder as she ran away from the bridge. But now that she found herself in the back laneways of suburbia again and with little idea of where she was, all she wanted to do was look over her shoulder and see Nick right behind her, ready to show her the way. Just like he always had.

But he wasn't there. She worried more about him with every step she took. Had he gotten away? Was he safe? Would he be able to shake off the gunman? Would he be able to shake him off so much that he could safely make his way to her place without being tailed?

As she approached the end of a laneway she saw bitumen for the first time in kilometres and realised she was getting more out into the open suburbs again. She instantly felt less safe, even though the suburbs were a lot busier and more occupied with people than the scrubby bushland and park areas were that she had just spent the last hour running through. But at least in the suburbs she could maybe work out where she was. Out in the backstreets every tree she passed looked like the one before – no wonder people got lost in the bush. She slowed to a jog as houses came into view and cars trundled past her.  
Finally she looked over her shoulder before she allowed herself to stop moving completely. When she saw that she was not being followed her heart finally settled back into a semi normal rhythm and she worked hard at slowing her breathing back down. She peaked around the corner of the fence line of the laneway and was provided with a clue as to where she was instantly.

A sign stood at the roadside, proud and shiny new. 'Welcome to Angelsea – Melbourne's most liveable suburb' it read. Angelsea. Angelsea. Angelsea. Jennifer thought hard, figuring out where she was and how far away she was from her own house. She smiled to herself as she plotted the route she knew she needed to take in her head, and begun making her way there.

By the time she reached her familiar quarters it was well after dark and exhaustion had finally set in. As she stuck to the shadows, even in the dark of night, scaling fences and creeping through backyards so great was her paranoia still about being followed, she began to feel bitter at her and Nick's whole situation. Sure they had signed up for undercover, but not for this. Not for complete abandonment by their SIS colleagues – the people they had trusted everything to – and certainly not for a screw up of missions so enormous that they were now completely on their own, unsure of who to trust and who to turn to. They could not even make their way back to SIS headquarters now – who knew if anyone who could help them would be there? Or if they even cared? They had let the afternoons mission get so out of hand and failed so completely at making any kind of rescue of herself and Nick that Jennifer almost didn't even want to go back to those headquarters anyway. Nick was now the only person she wanted to confer with, on anything, and she knew he would share similar feelings.

As Jennifer clambered silently over her back fence she felt a strong sense of home envelope her senses, helped ten fold by the way Jerry suddenly appeared out of nowhere, sensing his owner was near. She had not worried about him when she'd been secreted away to work undercover. They had promised to maintain her house and feed her cat whilst she was away, but Jennifer knew that even if they didn't, Jerry was enough of an independent that he would find food elsewhere if he needed it. He could look after himself, just like his owner.

But she was mightily pleased to see him and bent down to pick him up as he approached her. She found it incredibly black and white the way only hours earlier she had been running from a man with a gun and now here she was cuddling her cat. Was all this really happening? Had she really escaped? Maybe she hadn't, and she needed to be more alert to the situation around her, but for now she was too adoring of the sound of Jerry's purring in the crook of her neck. When he jumped down and out of her arms a few moments later, having had enough of being smothered with kisses and syrupy words of love sung in a baby voice, Jennifer mentally regrouped, standing in the corner of her backyard in the dark.

She looked over at the house and noticed SIS had left on a few lamps close to windows, trying to make it look like someone was home. But the way the inside of the house would be so normal suddenly scared her and she didn't want to go inside. She was shocked at how quickly she had slipped into guerrilla mode – running for her life, staying in the shadows, crossing country on foot powered only by adrenalin and fear. No, she couldn't go inside. It was a trap waiting to happen. She turned instead to the little garden shed that stood to her right. Her Dad had knocked it up for her years ago, before he'd passed away, insisting that she have somewhere to keep all the knick knacks she'd accumulated over the years since moving out of her parents place, so that they wouldn't crowd up her house. 'The place is tiny enough as it is love,' he'd always said. 'You don't need to be tripping over junk right and left just getting to the dunny at night.' And so he had built her a shed that he had promised wouldn't be monstrous, but which had turned out a lot bigger than the plans he'd drawn up for her. She had piled all her junk boxes into it after he'd built it, and they had only filled a quarter of the space. But it wasn't until now that she was grateful for that. It meant there would be room inside for her to hide.  
She made her way over to it and pulled at the aluminium door.

Thankfully, it didn't screech along the ground the way such shed doors usually did, and she slipped inside without looking back. Inside it was comfortably dark, a veil that made her feel safe yet again. Moonlight streamed through the window, providing just enough light for her to see where she was going.

Against the wall opposite the door stood her old mattress. Even though it was old, it wasn't worn out, and she had covered it with the plastic that had come with her new mattress back when she had had it delivered several months ago, in an effort to keep it in some kind of good condition should she ever want to use it again for whatever reason. She was glad now that she had, because almost everything else in the shed came complete with a solid layer of dirty dust, but because of her carefully applied plastic sheeting, Jennifer's old mattress was pristinely clean. She pulled it down to the floor and crouched beside it, pulling off the plastic and throwing it behind her.  
She rifled through the crates and boxes that stood lined up in the far corner, searching for a blanket. Ever so grateful when she found one after looking through only three boxes, she spread it over the mattress and lay down and waited for Nick.

A thousand thoughts ran through her head as she tried painstakingly to unwind form the frightful afternoon she'd just had, and she wondered if coming to her own house was really the right idea. She had no idea how much they knew about her. Maybe they knew where she lived? Maybe they were on their way there right now? Trying to sleep when thoughts like that were running through your head was hopeless she thought bitterly to herself.


	16. Chapter 16

Chapter 16

_The diamond sparkled brilliantly on her finger as she stared at it. She sat comfortably in Nick's arms as they watched television in her living room, sipping wine and eating the cheese she had bought earlier in the day. But nothing could distract her from that rock. She was so impressed with the pure size of it that she understood now why women so lusted after getting a ring on their finger from Mr Right. She was finally aware of everything it represented, and she was ecstatic that Nick wanted to give all of that to her. He had promised it to her months ago, when they had been Trish and Wesley, and she had moped around their tiny flat with her arm in a sling for weeks. When she had finally gained enough strength back in the limb to ditch the sling, she'd been able to see a layer of concern lift from Nick's face. It was the first indication to her that something was going on between them. She'd been too distracted by pain and the situation they were in to fully realise the level of intimate friendship they'd reached whilst being undercover._

_It had begun with a kiss on New Years Eve, but only once they were confined to that tiny flat after she'd been shot, their mission status up in the air for weeks on end due to her injury, did it finally unravel further and really heat up. She'd been able to bring out in him a softly romantic side he didn't even know he had, and he had been powerless to stop the tumbling thoughts of marital bliss and babies and white picket fences he'd had ever since. He'd never wanted any of that before, but it took him next to no time to realise he wanted all of that with her._

_She had taken a little more convincing, constantly reminding him of the fact they were undercover, that their situations were not normal, and that this really wasn't real life. But his power to draw her in was so great that by the time they went back to their normal lives and left Trish and Wesley behind, she had begun to get very used to the idea of spending the rest of her life with Nick. He promised her the world and she suddenly realised that she wanted it._

_Have you ever loved somebody so much you can barely breathe when you're with them_

_You meet and neither one of you even know what hit 'em_

_For months after their undercover assignment was finished their relationship continued much more easily along than Jennifer had anticipated. She was pleasantly surprised at how relaxed and simple it was, and when they laid entangled in each others arms late one night, she let out a contented sigh that made Nick grin. He brushed her hair from her forehead with his hand and she grinned back at him devotedly, wondering if she could be any more in love with this handsome man than she was right then. _

_Turned out she could be. Nick turned away from her and reached behind him to the bedside table. Shirtless and unbelievably good looking, Jen watched happily as he strained to open the top drawer at the awkward angle with which he'd reached for it. But when she saw what he pulled out of it she snapped herself out of her reverie. _

_He rolled back over to face her and bought the small blue box up to the tiny space between their faces and just beneath the pillows. He held it between just his thumb and two fore fingers and smiled into her eyes. "This is for you," he whispered. _

_She bit at her bottom lip, disbelieving. And when he opened the box up for her to see what was inside, she couldn't suppress her gasp at what she saw. He delicately pulled the ring out and slipped it onto her finger before their lips crashed together in a fit of passion, lust and serious love._

_They'd known each other barely six months._


	17. Chapter 17

Chapter 17  
Jennifer couldn't remember what time she'd left Nick at the bridge. But she'd taken note of what time she'd made it to her place, and by the time six hours had passed, even though it was nowhere near their twelve hour deadline, she began to worry chronically that he wasn't going to make it to her place like they'd agreed.

She crept up to the window for the fifth time in only the last half an hour and lifted her head above the sill just enough to see out and into her backyard. Scanning the perimeter, she was crushed to again see no sight of him. She slunk back to the mattress, deliberating over just how long she should wait. Twelve hours seemed like a seriously long time. What would she do if the sun rose and he still wasn't there?

She huddled under the blanket she had spread across her body and tried to get warm. Drafts blew inhospitably through cracks in the shed where the corners of the walls met, and through the crack at the bottom and at the top of the door. In spite of her stubborn refusal to cry during this whole disastrous exercise up until this point, she found herself succumbing to tears as she lay in wait for Nick. In one tiny way, she'd only agreed to go undercover again so that she could sleep beside him once more. Nothing felt right the way that that did. For almost four years she'd longed to have that feeling again. Going back undercover had been the perfect opportunity to get that feeling back once again.

And now here she was, afraid and alone, under a ratty old blanket on a used mattress in a garden shed. It was summer, but when you're sleeping out in the elements like she was, it sure didn't feel like it. And all she wanted was to know that Nick was ok, and that she could have the chance to sleep beside him again. The tears slipped down her cheeks in a slow stream as she remembered the world Nick had once promised her, and which she had thrown away so prematurely.

And I wish that I could have just one more chance

Some time later, her tears long since dry on her cheeks and her chaotic mind having fallen into slumber at last, she was awoken with a start by a thump outside the shed. She scrambled out of the blankets and back across to the window, but frustratingly couldn't see a thing from the angle it showed of the yard. So desperate to see if the thud was Nick, she decided it was worth the risk to open the sheds door and take a precautionary peak out. She shuffled over to it and pushed her weight against it slowly. This time it did scratch along the pavement outside the door and she cringed massively at the sound.

Deciding it was too late to chicken out now, she put her eye to the crack of space she had unveiled by opening the door, and looked out. The yard was as still as ever which made it easy to see when Nick moved from the same section of fence that Jennifer had climbed over to get into the yard hours earlier. His head whipped around when he heard the door of the shed be pushed open even further by Jennifer. She looked out of the doorway longingly at him and he ran for her, soundlessly crashing through the opening and falling to his knees beside her on the mattress, grabbing at her body and holding it desperately to his own in a tight hug.

Nick held Jennifer for minutes, not just seconds. He rubbed her back and smelt her hair and felt her hot breath against his shoulder appreciatively. They didn't speak – just felt enormous relief that they'd made it back to Jennifer's as planned.


	18. Chapter 18

Chapter 18

They fell asleep swiftly after that, but neither felt particularly at ease as they dozed. Still, they were exhausted from the last twelve hours and badly needed the rest. But it meant that Nick's desire to leave Jennifer's before sunrise did not eventuate, as they only woke when they heard the neighbour's car rumble in the garage as he warmed up his old bomb to take himself to work. Jennifer knew her neighbours, and knew this particular one clocked on at nine o'clock every morning and clocked off at five o'clock every afternoon.

But she didn't need to tell this to Nick. When the noise woke him up only moments after it had her, the first thing he did was look at his watch. He swore uncharacteristically and looked forlornly at Jen.

"We can't go out in daylight." He was stating it, rather than suggesting it. But Jennifer didn't disagree. She didn't even want to leave the garden shed. She was getting a lot more rattled than she felt comfortable with and knew it was obvious to Nick when he cupped her cheek with his hand for a brief moment after the neighbours car had rattled away. His expression softened as he felt her skin beneath his touch and he showed off a small smile. It put her at ease slightly, but she still almost shivered with the thought that they were being hunted – hunted so much that she was not even safe inside her own home, let alone the one she had lived in as 'Trish'.

They were forced to sit the day out, waiting for the hours to tick by. They took turns perching atop a stack of sturdy boxes by the shed window, watching the yard and keeping watch, ensuring they were ready to run for it should anyone enter.

But the morning was slow and uneventful. By lunchtime Nick wanted to pull his hair out from the boredom and Jennifer spent more and more time looking outside, clearly dying to get out into the fresh air. Jerry toddled past the door to the shed several times, sniffing curiously and mightily confused as to why his owner was holed up in the tiny building and not getting out and feeding and petting him like she usually did. He hung around the shed so much that if someone had have entered the yard, and really had their wits about them, they would've noticed the way Jerry was circling and pacing, and suspected somebody was in the shed because of it, and Nick and Jennifer's cover would've been blown. By a cat.

In the early afternoon they had both had enough, and decided it was safe enough to venture into Jennifer's house to raid the pantry and fridge. Nick volunteered to go, and sprinted across the lawn like a lightning bolt, pausing only for a second to reach atop the clothesline to grab the spare back door key. He hurried inside, slipping through the door and into the empty house without a sound.

Jennifer watched him from a tiny crack in the doorway. Her heart beat twice as fast as normal for the entire time he was out of the shed. When he returned, his arms laden with fruit, bread, crackers and orange juice, she flashed him the most relieved smile she had probably ever dished out, to anyone. Their morning had been uneventful, and Nick had made it into and out of the house easily enough, so it seemed that she had little to worry about right then, but she couldn't stop her little feelings of paranoia from trickling through her body. She wanted to hug him upon his return, but held back from such an extreme gesture.

They spent the next hour eating and taking turns again doing sentry duty at the window. As Jennifer peeled an orange with her fingers and sat on the mattress, her back against the wall of the shed, she turned to Nick.

"We will never really be able to stop being undercover will we?" she asked quietly.

Sorrowfully he shook his head, knowing they had signed their lives away the first time they had signed that SIS piece of paper all those years ago. Back then they had thought it would be a one time thing, but really, it was a lifetime commitment whether they wanted it to be or not. "Not fully I don't think," he replied. They would never be able to escape some parts of the job.

Jen nodded at his answer and went back to peeling her orange, leaving the discarded skin in a neat pile on the concrete floor beside the mattress. "You know what I'm most afraid of?" she asked, without even looking over at him.

He shook his head.

"That we're not going to survive this job." Her voice was low and solemn, almost sad and she couldn't meet his eyes. "Whether it's today, tomorrow, next month, next year. But I worry that one day it's just going to happen *poof*" she sighed and began breaking her orange into segments.

Nick nodded, understanding. "I know what you mean," he whispered. "Some days I feel like one way or the other, it's going to get us."

Jennifer nodded sadly. Nick's heart went out to her – even though she was so clueless and ill prepared for any life other than policing and didn't feel confident in herself on any other subject, she still knew that she at least wanted to be given the chance to explore those other areas of life. And she knew that policing might be exactly what stopped her from doing them all.

He slipped off the stack of boxes and sat down beside her. She immediately laid her head on his shoulder and held out her orange, offering him a piece. Taking one, he sat in silence with her for several minutes, reaching his other arm around her shoulders warmly. They polished off the fruit quickly and sat in quiet contemplation for much of the afternoon.

So quietly contemplative were they that Nick was surprised – pleasantly surprised – when Jen leaned in closer and put a hand to his chest in what was an unmistakable move on her part. But he wasn't about to put a stop to it. He reciprocated with just as much affection and soon the little shed was a lot warmer than it had been earlier in the day. It was a kind of closeness they hadn't shared in almost four years – since they'd been engaged in fact – and it filled both Nick and Jennifer with the same high kind of feeling they had had back when they were all set to marry and life had been blissful.

They were well and truly in love again and nothing could have stopped it.


	19. Chapter 19

Chapter 19

The bottle was like a school yard bully, taunting him to react, daring him to do something, say something, be something. And Matt was ashamed that he had so little willpower and so little self discipline within himself to stand up to the bully and be the bigger person in the situation.

No. He wasn't that strong. Sometimes, he thought, it was just easier to be weak, because although it was the cop out of all cop outs, he could not muster the strength to be anything else. Even though he had never intended for it to be this way, and had never imagined himself choosing to take this path, he understood now why his father had devoured so many bottles just like this one over his lifetime. He could finally see the light and sympathise, fully able to understand why he had turned to the bottle.

Sometimes things got so bad that the bottle was all there was left to turn to.

The thing about summer, Jennifer thought to herself, was that the days lasted forever. She loved it – the way they stretched out before her for months on end, kissing over her with warmth from the sun and balmy early evening breezes. But now that she was waiting for the sun to go down and the night to turn dark, it felt like she was waiting forever. By nine o'clock she and Nick agreed that it was finally dark enough to leave the shed and head for his house. They had no plan in mind, only that they should not spend too long in one place. They had already spent too long at Jennifer's, and needed to make a move while they had the chance.

As they crept out of her backyard, Jennifer felt lighter on her feet and less tense in her muscles. She knew it was the happy after feeling of being with Nick that was making her float along the grass, over the fences and down the back streets. She felt so incredibly close to him as they tentatively navigated the route to his place together. He too looked more relaxed, she observed, and she knew that he was probably trying just as hard as she was to suppress the urge to share a passionate moment again as they crept from hiding place to hiding place.

Nick's place was a lot smaller than Jennifer's, and he certainly didn't have a garden shed that they could hide in. Instead he led her inside his small weatherboard and, as unprofessional as ever, not to mention completely time inappropriate, had Jennifer up against the door of his bedroom before he'd even closed the curtains. Their hunger for each other was at fever pitch now, whether they were in a life threatening situation or not doing little to curb their actions.

Shortly before midnight, Jennifer fumbled out of Nick's bed sleepily and made her way through the darkness and into the kitchen for a glass of water. Proving that old habits die hard, she melted into the walls as she made her way there and then made quick work of getting a glass and filling it from the tap. No amount of sex with even the most enviable of men was going to pull her guard down. She was still a cop. And she was _still_ undercover.

Slinking back towards the bedroom a minute later, clutching her glass in her hand, she noticed Nick's answering machine flashing. Curious, as well as feeling a pang of longing for her old life and her old colleagues, she bent over the machine, turned the volume of the speaker down low and then pressed play, hoping that perhaps Stanley, or Duncan had called Nick. So that she knew she and Nick hadn't been forgotten about.

But there were no messages from their Homicide colleagues, and Jennifer felt sad. There was one more message left to play, and she almost didn't want to listen to it because she knew there was a good chance it wouldn't be a message she cared about. As it started playing, she squinted in the dark at the buttons on the machine, trying to find the stop button. But when she heard Angela's voice she stopped dead.

"Nick, I'm trying to get hold of Jen," she said. Jennifer could hear the concern and worry in her voice immediately. "Do you know where she is? I really need to talk to her about Matt. If you see her can you let her know I called and get her to call me? Thanks." Angela ended her call without her usual cheery goodbyes and attaching of 'see you later gorgeous', 'don't do anything I wouldn't do' or 'stay out of trouble ratbag' to the conversation. The lack of Angela's usual persona in the call immediately ate away at Jennifer. She knew something was wrong.

Even though she knew she shouldn't, she crept back into Nick's room, pulled her top and skirt back on and tiptoed out of the room without a second glance back. She didn't leave a note, nor kiss him on the cheek as she left. She simply slipped back out into the darkness and set away on foot for Matt's.


	20. Chapter 20

Chapter 20  
Jennifer knew Nick would be worried if he woke up alone – more than that he would be reeling, scared out of his brain about where she had gone and why – but she felt compelled to go and see Matt. She knew Angela well enough to know something was up. She wouldn't be calling otherwise, and she certainly wouldn't be going to such an effort as to call Nick to try to get hold of her. If she was going that far something was clearly up. And Angela Crawford never got rattled, but the voice on the machine was rattled to the core.

Jennifer wished she could go and see Ange too – it was hard being away from her friends, leaving them so out of the blue and with no explanation. She knew she would get a chance to explain herself one day, but until then it wasn't nice to leave everyone she cared about so in the dark about things. She hoped she hadn't hurt their feelings too much with her disappearing act.

But she couldn't go and see her. She really couldn't even go and see Matt, but somewhere inside she knew she had to take the risk. She had been worried about him before – now she was scared.

She reached Matt's at 1am. She was getting used to walking places in the dark, and stealthily made the journey with little trouble. She knew that her and Nick's plan to keep moving from place to place, never settling, was helping their cause greatly, making them almost impossible to track and find, and making life generally all the more harder for anybody who might still be pursuing them. She didn't know if anybody was, but it felt safer to know that just in case anybody was, that they were taking precautions against it.

She took the tiny footpath that ran along the side of Matt's house at a jog until she got to his bedroom window. It was half open, letting in the balmy summer breeze. Placing her hands on the wooden outside sill, she took a look over the edge and into the room, again squinting her eyes in the semi darkness. But she could see well enough. He wasn't in there. She was just about to leave when she heard the toilet flush a few rooms away. She smiled and inched the window up all the way and climbed through quietly. Once inside, she walked lightly around his bed and to the bedroom door, trying to naively ignore the half empty bottle of scotch on the nightstand. She hesitated when she stepped into the hallway – it was even darker than the bedroom and she couldn't see very far in front of her. Holding her breath, she walked blindly down it, hoping she would hear Matt before she bumped into him and gave them both heart attacks.

But she had underestimated him and forgotten that other people could creep through houses just as noiselessly as she could. Especially cops. She smacked into Matt face first, hitting his shoulder with her nose and cheek.

"Ooooofff," came her reaction. She stumbled backward as she strained to see him in front of her.

"Jen?" came his familiar voice. He grabbed her elbow and dragged her into the bedroom where he could see her better.

"Matty!" she greeted him as soon as she could make him out, genuinely stoked. She wanted to fling her arms around him for all that she had missed him, but the look on his face made her stop and reconsider such a move.

And if anything, he looked worse than he had when she had knocked on his door that day after her run. It shocked her. She knew immediately why Ange had sounded so concerned on the phone. It was smack you in the face obvious.

"What are you doing here Jen?" he demanded, towering over her with his tall and solid frame. "This is the last place you should be!"

She was lost for words for a few moments as she comprehended his cold tone. So unfriendly, it was a side of him she had never seen.  
But he was unrelenting. He had been left out of the loop for so long now that he was feeling very unwilling and unenthusiastic about becoming involved only now when she needed his help. Or was she here because she felt pity for him?

"I don't see you for ages Jen," he continued angrily. "I don't even know where you are, if you're all right, what you're doing…and now you turn up here in the middle of the night and want my help?"

"Matt!" she almost yelped. "I didn't come here for your help," she shook her head vehemently at him, confused as to how he'd come to such an assumption. "I just came here to see you." Her voice dropped an octave and took on a more caring tone. "I came here to make sure you were all right."

Matt considered this for a moment and looked at her in the way that he used to – before he was sergeant, before Nick had joined Homicide, before Emma had appeared on the scene, before he'd ever taken a swig so heartily from a bottle of booze. It relaxed Jennifer a little and she continued speaking.

"I got a call from Ange," she explained. "I had to come and see you." She sat down on the end of his bed and pulled him down with her. She looked at him square in the eye. "I've been worried about you."

Matt's face changed immediately. So she was here out of pity. He stood back up and walked around to the side of the bed. "So you came here to make sure I wasn't drinking myself to death?" he spat out.

"No," she lied. But as she went to speak again she felt the truth slipping out. "I just came here to see you again," she couldn't think of a better way to explain it other than simply, like that. "To get away from everything my life is right now…to get away from terrorists and gunfire and to get out of hiding." There were some things she couldn't even share with Nick. Matt was the only other person who she could ever confide in about such things. And even though it had only been a few days in which her life had unravelled mercilessly, it felt like it had been weeks.

He softened, momentarily. "What are you doing Jen?" he pleaded with her for an answer, shaking his head at her sadly. He had been worried about her too. "Look at how much danger you're in, and nobody can help you. I mean," he gestured half heartedly at the open window. "You had to crawl through the bloody window to see me." He walked back over to her and looked her in the eye. "Why did you ever agree to this?" he asked her simply.

But Jennifer didn't have an answer for that one because she'd never anticipated this time would be any different from last time. Now, hidden in the darkness in Matt's house, terrorists probably still hot on her trail and her very existence completely up in the air, she didn't know what to do next. And she couldn't for the life of her justify why she had ever put her own life, and Nick's, in such danger voluntarily. Why were they doing this? Why had they agreed to this again? She had been so naïve to think it would be anything like last time.

She tried to avoid his prying eyes and change the subject as quickly as she could. She looked over at the bottle of scotch on the nightstand. She noticed that there was not even a glass beside it. She couldn't imagine Matt doing something as ugly and utterly down and out as drinking straight from the bottle like some homeless drunk with no purpose left in the world. But that was obviously what he'd been doing. The label of the bottle was peeling at the edges too, and when she further scoped the room in the continuing moments of silence that lay between them as Matt waited patiently for her answer, she began to see the bigger picture of what Matt's life had become in the last few weeks. All the hallmarks of all her worries were laid out for her to see, no longer letting her ignore her fears about his state of mind. It was all there in black and white: the mess of bed clothes that textured the bed and floor, the bottle label picked at by numb fingers during hours of silent, depressed contemplation alone in his empty house, the greasy hair and drawn face, the half open drawers in the wardrobe, his thinner frame, the uncut grass out the front, the stale smell that hung throughout the house - even with the windows open. There were too many things to deny it any longer. And it broke Jennifer's heart. How had she let this happen to someone who meant so much to her?

She felt so enormously at fault, even though she'd had plenty of her own problems to deal with at the time. But they were colleagues, and more than that they were friends, and that had always meant a great deal to Jennifer. So she wanted to help him. And even though she wasn't sure it was the right place to start, she thought it best that they both clearly understood what the deal was right in front of them.  
But she couldn't think of the right thing to say and found instead that brutal honesty tumbled out of her mouth instead. "You saw this happen to your Dad Matt – why are you now letting it happen to yourself?" she asked. It was exactly what was happening and they both knew it, but Jennifer was not sure right then if it was a case of Matt 'letting' it happen or if he was powerless to stop it from happening.

Matt was quick to answer, not letting the alcohol he'd drunk earlier in the night affect him in the slightest. "I'm not turning into my Dad Jen." He was insistent, and trying hard to control the sound of annoyance in his voice. He succeeded, but knew what he'd just said was a lie. "But sometimes the answer seems to only lie in the bottle."

Jennifer chortled, unamused. "That's bullshit Matt," she countered. "That's not the kind of guy you are. You're better than that…stronger than that."

He shrugged his shoulders at her, a quick motion in his upper body that spelt defeat so plainly. "Maybe I'm not," he replied in a small voice, looking back over at the nightstand, but not getting the comfort from it that he had hoped for.

Jennifer felt herself soften upon hearing such an honestly raw admittance and again she felt her heart break a little more. She stepped over to him and tried to keep her voice under control as she tried to reassure him. Putting a hand to his tired face, placing a soft touch over his cheek and temple, she swept a lock of his hair aside. "Oh Matty," she whispered. "Don't give up. Fight it." Tears were forming in her eyes as everything that had happened in the last few weeks finally made its way to the surface in front of her closest colleague and friend, refusing to be shoved and hidden away any longer.

"I don't know if I can," he mumbled to her, leaning in to her hand, so deprived of such a feeling for so long.

"Try for me," she pleaded quietly, pulling him into a tight hug. "Please try for me."

He nodded weakly into her shoulder before letting her go. "You shouldn't be here Jen. Go back to Nick." He folded his arms across his chest, knowing their rendezvous needed to end.

Sadly she agreed and silently walked back to the window through which she'd entered only minutes before. Climbing through it she balanced herself for a moment on the sill and stole one last glance back at him, flicking him a brief smile. "See you soon?"

She waited for his nod of confirmation and when she got it, she slipped back into the darkness and away into the night.


	21. Chapter 21

Chapter 21

When she was so close to Nick's that she could see the detail in the blinds that covered his kitchen window the car showed up. She had slunk all the way home from Matt's, taking her time, partly to be cautious and partly because she wanted a chance to think long and hard about the meeting she'd just had. When she reached the house next to Nick's, the front yard dense and thick with bushes and shrubs, as well as overhanging gums that looked like they hadn't been pruned in twenty five years, she felt safe enough to be able to cut through it and get to Nick's side of the fence quicker, rather than scaling what felt like her 50th fence in a matter of days.

So she crept through the neighbours front garden, trying not to make any noise with her footsteps on the twigs and brittle leaves that littered the lawn, fried to a crisp from the summer sun of November. She placed each foot delicately in front of the other, slow and rhythmical, which is why she was surprised she was still able to stub her toe on a rock so forcefully. She instantly held her breath, gritting her teeth in pain and trying her hardest not to let out a string of expletives that were the first words to pop into her head. She crouched right down to the ground, reaching for the little toe of her left foot. Her hand hovered around the throbbing part, unable to soothe it in any way. As she blinked furiously to keep back the tears that sprung to her eyes, Jennifer heard the low rumble of a hotted up Monaro. She looked up, barely moving, and came face to face with the car. It cruised along the street, just twenty metres from where she was crouched, hidden behind a fragrant smelling bush. She froze on the spot, hoping like hell that the darkness was doing its job of hiding her. The car approached Nick's driveway, and where before it had been doing maybe 30 ks, when it was in front of Nick's house it slowed right down to snails pace. Jennifer watched it with wide eyes. Something about it made her uneasy. It wasn't just the speed at which it was driving – no it was also the time of night it was choosing to drive, the way when it got in front of Nick's house, where he was sleeping, oblivious inside, thinking she was right next to him, it slowed right down, the way the front passenger window was rolled down and a black hooded figure leant half out of it, face shadowed over and obscured from view, but looking no less frightening than if she had been able to see the face.

Jennifer eased herself down closer to the ground, her stubbed toe a distant memory, and shuffled her position to be lying on her stomach. Using her elbows she moved forwards, partly burying herself in the bush – just enough to be able to see a good sized section of the street. She couldn't control her breathing anymore – Nick lived in a nice suburb, on a good street, with kids and families and businessmen and all sorts of people as his neighbours. There was no reason a car like that would be cruising around casing the joint – not in the middle of the night anyway. Jennifer knew already that it was there for her and Nick. Her mind raced, trying to work out how she could get back to Nick and warn him. But no plan came to her.

She stayed in her uncomfortable position for almost half an hour, watching the car go up and down the street, as agonisingly slow as the time before. When they disappeared shortly after 3:30am, she decided it was finally time to move, and began crawling out of her hiding place. She leapt from bush to bush, waiting five minutes between each movement. She had eclipsed four bushes in the large yard and was almost home free when she heard the car return over her shoulder. She looked frantically for a hiding place only half a moment later. The bush she had made it to was not nearly dense enough to hide her – she suddenly had nowhere to go. Her head sprang from side to side, her mind screaming at her to move, but the choices were almost non existant. All that was left was the car parked in the driveway to her right. A beefy landcruiser, there was plenty of room underneath it to wiggle in to. She slipped underneath, in her haste grazing her hip bone yet again on scratchy, unforgiving cement, just like on the wall behind the restaurant.

She flattened herself to the ground, keeping as close to the huge tyres as she could, hoping she would blend in and look like nothing more than a shadow. Not a single part of her moved as the car drove past, and she even squinted her eyes until they were almost closed, scared that their whites would glisten from a streetlight or moonlight reflection and they would spot her.

When she heard them squeal around the corner at the top of the street she knew they had finally finished their recce. She got herself out from underneath the car and leapt across the rest of the driveway and over the waist high fence that separated Nick's house from his neighbours. She bolted down the narrow brick footpath at the side of Nick's and into the backyard, breathing hard. When she got to the bedroom window she was glad to see the fold of cardboard she had wedged there was still in place, just preventing the window from being closed and locked. It was closed enough to not allow any drafts in that might wake Nick, as well as closed enough to make Jennifer feel like Nick was not in too much danger. But it was open enough, thanks to that little piece of cardboard, for her to get back inside. She pulled the cardboard out of the tiny gap and pushed her fingers in there in its place, prying the window along its track sideways. Before she opened it all the way though, she stopped for a second and crouched back down, keeping one hand in the gap. The other hand held the side of the old weatherboard house as she thought how she would explain this all to Nick. She did not even know where to start, or even if she wanted to. Sometimes, things were better left unsaid, she decided finally. It wouldn't be the first time.

She opened the window far enough to slip back inside. As she swung both her legs into the bedroom she marvelled at her break and enter skills that were so good and yet had come out of nowhere so quickly. When it came to the crunch, she guessed, as she padded over to the bed where Nick lay, still sound asleep, you just did whatever you had to, without thinking about how hard, or against your beliefs it was.

Jennifer lifted the sheet and slipped back into the bed beside the man she often thought was the love of her life. He didn't stir and she realised he must be more exhausted than she had sympathised for. She fell asleep uneasily beside him not much later, riddled with guilt.


	22. Chapter 22

Chapter 22  
Only a few hours later, a mere half an hour before the sun rose, Jennifer's eyes sprung open. It felt like she had never even been asleep, even though she knew she gotten a little bit of shut eye after she had climbed back into bed with Nick.

As always, he took a little longer to wake up, and as he stretched out his body in amongst the sheets, he cuddled her close to him, feeling overwhelmingly affectionate after their actions the night before. Jennifer found herself briefly smiling at the way his hands wrapped around her in the way she remembered so fondly from when they had first been together, as well as just the day before. There were times when she couldn't shake off the feeling that she was being so protected and shielded from danger by Nick that he was almost smothering her, but most of the time he simply made her feel so special – like she was the only one he would ever love, and ever be like this with. She couldn't explain the feeling to others, even Ange, because it was just so giddily perfect, like a rush of simmering warmth surging through her body. If she could bottle it she would be a millionaire. It was the most extraordinary feeling.

But then her mind flicked back to her adventure just hours earlier. She turned over and faced Nick, rubbing at her eyes, still unsure of whether to tell him what she had done and what she had seen. One half of her couldn't believe she was even entertaining the thought of not telling him…the other half of her felt such a need to keep it secret, at least for now.

He smiled tenderly at her as they mumbled good mornings to each other. Despite her plaguing secrets she couldn't not snuggle in closer to him when he reached for her, inviting her into his strong arms for a hold so devoted and earnest that it always set her heart a flutter. His skin was warm against her cheek and his hold relaxed and smooth – she almost didn't want to ruin the moment.

"Nick," she breathed, lifting her eyes to meet his. "We can't stay here – we've already been here too long."

He nodded back at her half heartedly, his brain still half asleep and the rest of him too caught up in holding her.

She sat up in the bed, shrugging out of his hold. It was this move that finally woke him properly and made him listen. "I don't feel safe here," she insisted. "We have to go." She turned her back to him and climbed out of the bed, pulling her shoes on and running a hand through her hair, feeling the past few days built up grottily in between the strands. Her hair was as dirty as she was exhausted, but any time an opportunity to shower had come up the lure of sleep had been greater. She wondered when she would get the chance to wash all the dirt and sweat off her body and out of her hair.

"Jen." Nick sat up in bed and looked at her, frowning.

"We have to go," she repeated, her voice cracking. The crack bought Nick out of bed and to her side in a flash. He cupped her face in his hands and tried to read her fear. He finally understood the urgency.

"Let's just take five minutes, grab a few things and then we're out of here." He gave the instructions simply, and they both quickly went about following them. They didn't discuss where they might go to next, but that seemed unimportant right then. It was more crucial just to leave.

Nick headed for the bathroom as Jen walked into the kitchen, hoping she would find a bottle of water in his fridge that they could take with them. She opened the small fridge and was grateful to find a large bottle hidden in amongst the beer bottles and leftover dinners that took up the shelves inside. She grabbed for it and turned back towards the hallway, tucking it under her arm, appreciating how cool it was in her hold. The morning was already uncharacteristically sticky and humid, so unusual for a Melbourne November day, and especially unusual considering the sun was not even up yet.

But the bottle fell from her armpit the moment she stepped out of the kitchen and into the hallway as she heard the all too familiar sound of squealing Monaro tyres outside. The sound echoed in her ears as the bottle rolled away from her and she sunk into the corner of the wall, paralysed with fear, not wanting to look out into the front room to see where the car was.

"Nick!" she whispered, unable to speak any louder. The tyres squealed again outside, closer this time. They felt like they were just metres away, and in all truth Jen thought, they probably were.

She took a deep breath and forced herself to yell. "NICK!" She knew it was the car from earlier in the morning. Even without seeing it she knew. The sound it had made when she had been in the neighbours garden was burnt into her memory forever. There was no mistaking they were back.

She heard him running, but he didn't make it to her before the shooting started. The sound of shattering glass pierced the predawn stillness as Nick's front windows were broken by bullets. The living room was instantly showered with shards of glass, covering the couches and floor like a blanket of silver glitter.

Pressed into her corner of wall between the hallway and the kitchen harder than ever, Jen saw Nick appear at the other end of the hallway, just steps from her. At first glance, his face was a blank canvas, so shocked at what was suddenly happening. But as always, he snapped into action just a second later and attempted to get closer to where Jen stood, rooted to the spot. She watched him, but when more bullets ripped into the house he dropped to the floor, his hands over his head, his eyes squeezed shut and his shoulder muscles bunched up around his ears, tense and frightened. Jennifer still couldn't move, and simply closed her eyes. She felt she could do nothing else, and didn't particularly want to see Nick be shot right in front of her eyes. She didn't want to see a bullet hurtling towards her own body either, so closing her eyes seemed to be the smartest thing to do. It was an ignorance is bliss moment – if she couldn't see a bullet hurtling towards herself or Nick then that was better than seeing death coming towards them at a squillion miles an hour.

Stand in the corner  
Your face stripped of colour

As a hail of bullets continued to rip through the front of Nick's home under the cover of the last dark shades of night time, Jen felt a hand pulling hers suddenly. It was Nick, pulling her back into consciousness and yanking her towards the back door. She stumbled along behind him, still hearing the sound of gunfire aimed at them.

Nick felt a strange out of body experience as they ran through the house and into the backyard. He couldn't feel his feet running, nor his hand holding Jennifer's. Sometimes life just felt so god damn crazy and unbelievable that it just didn't feel like it was really happening. How could something like this possibly be happening? It was like something out of a movie. But somehow he kept running, and kept a hold of her hand.

Nick's mind raced as they entered the morning air. Its freshness propelled his mind into gear properly and his clearer head told him to head for higher ground. People rarely look above their own line of sight, he thought to himself. He ran to the furtherest corner of his backyard and scaled the tree there, scurrying up it like he was born to do it. Jennifer stood below for a breath and decided she had no choice but to do the same. Nick pulled her up to his branch and she latched onto him, terror still racing through her body. Breathing hard, she shot a look of 'what the hell are we doing?' at him.

"When they go," he whispered. "We'll take my car down the back lane over there," he cocked his head to their left where a secluded little lane lined with neighbourhood rubbish bins meandered away for some distance. It looked barely wide enough for a car, Jen thought, but she trusted Nick if he said they could get a vehicle down there.

Nick was so glad that he had thought to grab his keys the night before and shove them back into the pocket of his pants. He patted the pocket to check they were still there, and ever so relieved that they were, he smiled reassuringly at Jennifer as they balanced on the gumtree's limbs like a couple of kids.

She couldn't return the smile. She knew so much more than he did after the previous night where she had crouched behind his neighbour's front bushes and underneath their car. He only had half the story – of course he could still manage a smile. At that moment Nick was ignorantly fearless – the total opposite of what Jennifer was.

And how could she smile or accept his reassurances when neither of them even knew if the shooting would stop? Or if the culprits would just leave once they had emptied their magazines? Or if they wouldn't come back later armed with more weapons? Or if they wouldn't charge into Nick's house right now, looking for the occupants that normally resided there? What the hell were they doing up a tree just waiting to be caught? Jennifer's mind raced with the ridiculousness of it all. Why had she followed him up a gumtree? They should've been running for their lives. Sometimes she wondered if her devotion to Nick was unhealthy and clouded her judgement a little too much.  
But still, a large part of Jennifer did trust him. If he thought this was the best option she would never question it. So long undercover together had led her to trust him unwaveringly. Undercover partnerships just didn't work any other way.

They stayed up the tree for only a few minutes – as soon as Jennifer heard the tyres squeal away she was making her way back down the trunk to the grass below. She wasn't going to waste another second there, just waiting for them to come and find her. She wasn't going to make it that easy for them.

Nick jumped down after her and without saying a word, headed for his car, parked in the carport several metres away. Within moments he was in the drivers seat and leaning over the centre console to open the door of the passenger side for Jennifer. Reluctantly, she got inside and out of habit, immediately reached for the seatbelt.

Nick sped the car backwards down the driveway the bordered one side of the small backyard and slowed down just as they got to the back gate. Not wanting to get out of the car to waste any more time, Jennifer and Nick both turned around in their seats and watched as Nick slowed the car to a crawl, placing just enough pressure with his foot on the accelerator to nudge the gate open. It swung open voluntarily most of the way after the first nudge, providing an opening for the grateful pairs getaway.

As they drove down the lane way and away from the former safe haven of Nick's house, they shared a look of brief relief, cautiously thinking again that they had got away. As the sun began to rise, they only hoped that this time their getaway would last.


	23. Chapter 23

Chapter 23  
They had only been driving for maybe five minutes when Nick became paralysed in a way not dissimilar to the way Jen had in the hallway when the drive by shooting had shattered the peacefulness of the morning in Nick's slumbering neighbourhood. His hands fell limp from the steering wheel, barely hanging on. His breathing became laboured and the colour drained from his face. Jennifer noticed the change immediately and knew that that was how she must've looked standing in the hallway, her eyes squeezed shut.  
She had not expected it from Nick though. So concerned was she at this instant change of demeanour from him that she actually reached out and held onto the steering wheel with her left hand, guiding it a lot more than Nick's hands were. Her other hand found his thigh and stroked it in miniature motions, trying to soothe the paralysis that had hit him out of the blue.  
He looked at her vacantly. "I don't know where we should go," he said. His face was blank and clueless. She had never seen him at such a loss. "I don't know what to do. I don't know what to do."  
As they navigated a left turn into yet another quiet back street, Jennifer knew it was time for her to step up. "We're close to my place now," she informed him quietly. "Let's just go there and make a decision after that."  
Nick nodded and seemed to get some strength back, although he still needed Jennifer to tell him where to stop the car – he hadn't even entertained the fact that they couldn't just drive Nick's car up Jennifer's driveway. That would be like erecting a neon sign that stated 'Nick and Jen are hiding out here'. Nick still did not have all his wits about him.  
But Jennifer was prepared, and eased his inabilities with gentle instructions. Several blocks from her house was a large shopping centre with an equally large carpark to match. It was a Sunday morning, and the sellers and scavengers of the local weekly swapmeet were starting to converge on the carpark to stake out spaces to set up their bric a brac for sale. The area was crawling with cars and early bargain hunters – it was one of the busiest and biggest swapmeets around. Jennifer decided their car would be perfectly disguised there, in amongst all the action.  
They parked it between a large family Volvo and an even larger Pathfinder. Hopping out of the car, they plunged into the crowds of people, power walking with the crowd in the general direction of the swapmeet. But right before the sellers entrance, Jen and Nick branched off in the direction of the block Jennifer's house sat on.  
Jennifer held Nick's hand, as much for her own comfort as for his. They both still felt incredibly unsafe out in the open, and walked quickly instead around corners of a McDonald's restaurant, a cinema and a Video Ezy, keeping well out of view of the road. Within five minutes they were approaching Jennifer's house, Nick impressed at the time they had made. Adrenalin and fear could make you do amazing things, he thought to himself.  
They were approaching the house from the opposite direction they normally would – from the top of the street. Usually, they entered her street from the bottom of the long road, because they were usually coming from work. So the angle of the house, when it first came into their view, was different to normal. Having sprinted up and down the street on her daily runs, Jennifer knew every inch of her dwelling like the back of her hand. So it was her who noticed first the way the front of her house had been shot up and froze on the spot, stopping mid stride.  
It took a few more steps for Nick to stop. She wasn't sure if he stopped because he'd noticed that she had, or if he had stopped because he'd noticed the bullet torn front face of the pretty home belonging to Jen. Whichever, the shock was polarising and was the final straw in the pairs realisation that this was a serious man hunt, and no longer just a game of hide and seek. Dangerous people were after them, and they were relentless and unforgiving in their hunt. A wave of vulnerability washed over Jennifer so strongly that her knees buckled and she had to grab onto Nick with both hands to stay up right. He instantly slipped an arm around her waist and held her securely as they took several seconds to let the scene before them sink in. Jennifer couldn't tear her eyes away from the front façade of her house. The force of the shots had opened the front door, and it hung jaggedly, partly off its hinges. The fly screen was completely off, lying flat on the verandah decking. The large, beautiful windows at the front of the house that she had had installed just a year earlier, with their gorgeous stained wood and thick textured glass, which, by the way, had cost a fortune, were now unrecognisable, broken into pieces in an ugly cloak of shattered glass and splintered wood that stretched as far as the eye could see. A few pot plants that she had had hanging from the rafters, as well as some that had sat on the verandah steps, were now not even there anymore, blasted off to who knows where by a mighty assault rifle. Guns were so much more powerful than most people realised Jennifer thought numbly to herself. She was just glad that they hadn't been there at the time.  
Jennifer's neighbours were standing on their front lawns, cautious and afraid, looking around their street. Nick and Jennifer knew the drive by must have just happened – perhaps while they were parking the car at the swapmeet. Because only now were the neighbours venturing out of their homes, trusting that the shooting was over, and wondering what the hell had just happened to the house they all knew a cop lived in.  
Nick knew Jennifer well enough to know she didn't want her neighbours to see her. They needed to remain anonymous and unseen. They slunk away, again using bushes and fences to shield themselves from sight.  
The paralysis that had gripped Nick earlier was still present, but was beginning to relent slowly. He still had little idea of where they could go though. Number 11? No. Back to his place? Definitely not. The Homicide building? An attractive option, but still not the best choice. He and Jennifer huddled in a backyard several houses up from Jen's, having gone unnoticed as they slipped through backyards and through gates, to regroup. The tears were already threatening to spill over Jennifer's lashes when they came to a complete stop on their haunches behind an out of control hibiscus bush.  
"They're still after us," Jennifer's voice wobbled as she tried to maintain her composure.  
Nick nodded solemnly. He knew she was as scared shitless as he was, and didn't need to say anything to confirm the feeling. They were totally on the run with nowhere left to hide. Such dire circumstances and complete lack of remaining options felt a little bit like what Nick imagined death would be like – a complete end, with absolutely no avenue left to turn down.  
Jennifer felt a similar feeling, still disbelieving that it had got to this. How were they ever going to get out of this? How had it come to be that her own house and Nick's had been targeted, leaving them with nowhere to hide, and leaving them with very little to work with to get their lives back to normal ever again? She knew at that moment, crouching behind the hibiscus, the fragrance invading her nostrils but being ignored by her brain, that their lives would never ever go back to what they once were. They had reached the point, against their will, of no return. Life would never be the same after this.  
Neither had anything to say for several minutes. As they listened to the commotion several homes away at Jennifer's, she ventured a suggestion she feared she might regret.  
"Maybe we should go to Matt's."  
Maybe her tone gave it away, she wasn't sure. Maybe it was the look on her face. But she knew instantly that yes, she was going to regret suggesting it.


	24. Chapter 24

Chapter 24

_"I'll have the gnocchi, extra saucy please," Nick ordered, handing his menu back to the young waitress. She nodded and smiled and bustled away with the tables order._

_"Are you sure you should be eating gnocchi mate?" Julian teased Nick, raising an eyebrow at him. He nudged Angela beside him with his elbow, but she was already ready with another crack to mock their poor friend. _

_She reached over the table and pinched Nick's cheek playfully, in a way only Angela could get away with, and in fact the only person Nick would let get away with. "Don't want to be piling on the pounds for the wedding mister!" she chuckled._

_Nick laughed, feeling his tension from the past few weeks slip away. Next to him, Jen did the same. They had only been engaged for just over three months and already both were getting tired of the relentless wedding planning being done by their mothers and other assorted family and friends. In a stressful job like policing, neither felt like they needed any extra added stress, but in the last few weeks it had been coming in from all directions. _

_As Jennifer sipped her drink as the two young couples waited for their food to arrive in a cozy little eatery in Carlton, she felt that a night out was exactly what she and Nick needed. So when Nick refilled her glass of wine a few minutes later she gladly accepted it and went about enjoying the evening with her friends._

_Still, as the designated driver, Jen made sure to keep an eye on how many drinks she had whilst they were out and stopped drinking all together once their main courses arrived. Her three companions enforced no such restrictions on themselves though, and as the night wore on, the conversation became much more animated and involved, not to mention loud. Jennifer sat back and listened with mixed feelings she hadn't been expecting to surface when Nick discussed with Angela and Julian a number of things he hoped for for himself and Jen after they were married – things Jen had mostly avoided thinking about, and certainly had avoided talking about._

_She took part in the conversation to keep up appearances and not feel left out, but throughout the whole night she couldn't help but notice how eagerly and happily Nick talked about their future together, like he already had a multitude of plans for them that he was certain were always going to happen._

_Jennifer managed to keep her thoughts to herself about his eagerness until they returned back to Nick's place well after midnight after farewelling Angela and Julian. _

_Nick collapsed onto the couch in his small living room almost as soon as they walked through the door, feeling the slightly seedy after effects of all he had drunk that night. He closed his eyes lightly as he lay there, listening to Jen drop her keys back into her bag and kick off her shoes. She walked over to where he lay and wedged herself onto the remaining couch space against his chest, curling up to him closely to try to regain that feeling of contentment she usually got from such a move._

_But tonight it wasn't working. He had his arms around her, and still had the familiar warmth in his hold that she loved so much, but everything he had said over dinner was ruining the moment for her. She couldn't stop thinking about it._

_"Are we having children straight away?" she asked suddenly, breaking the silence of the dim living room with her question._

_Nick didn't open his eyes, nor did he move. "What?" he mumbled._

_She sat up, bending her arm at the elbow and looking intently at his drunk, sleepy face. "Do you expect me to give up my job and have children really soon after we get married?" she asked, louder this time, the agony of not knowing his answer really beginning to grate at her._

_Finally Nick opened his eyes. "What are you talking about?"_

_Jennifer allowed herself to slither out of his hold and off the couch completely, perching herself instead on the edge of the sturdy wood coffee table. She tucked her hands between her knees tightly and frowned. "Everything you were saying tonight – we haven't even really discussed it yet. I feel like you've made plans for us and I'm not even getting a say." She could feel her breathing quicken and her skin flush in reaction to the intensity of the confrontation they were suddenly having._

_"Yes we have," he replied, still gathering his bearings and struggling to sit upright on the couch in front of her.  
"No we haven't Nick," she retorted quietly but strongly. "What if I'm not as ready as you are for dirty nappies and mothers group and footy clinics?"_

_Nick was slowly starting to get a grip on his consciousness and was trying desperately to shake off the intoxicated feelings that overshadowed him so that he could give this conversation his full attention. It wasn't easy. "Who said anything about doing all of that yet?" he asked, frowning._

_Jennifer stood up, exasperated and knowing she wasn't getting through. "You did! Tonight! I feel like you've laid it all out for us and I'm barely being let in on the secret!" She was almost wailing she felt at such a loose end._

_Nick stood up to meet her and grabbed for her hand as she went to walk away towards the bedroom. He pulled her back to be closer to him, but she resisted, gluing her feet to the spot. So instead he stepped towards her, still holding her hand tightly. "Whatever happens, happens Jen," he explained quietly to her, bowing his head so that their foreheads were almost touching. "We have to both be ready for this stuff."_

_Jennifer looked away. "I think you want it all so much more than I do," she whispered, pressing her lips together, still having trouble with breathing evenly. "And in such a different way."_

_She looked up to his gaze and saw the look in his eyes that confirmed her suspicions. He was telling her that they both had to be ready to have children and be a family together forever, but his face and the look in his eyes said the opposite. He didn't want to waste time – Nick always positioned himself to make sure his dreams were within easy reach and Jennifer knew it. Further confirming the obvious was the way he couldn't find an answer for her after she spoke. He didn't have an argument to sway her back to his side. Instead he just stood in front of her wearing one of his trademark forlorn expressions that was as frustratingly wordless as his face was drawn._

_"You want a family so much," she whispered, her voice wobbly as she fought to maintain control in front of him. "And I don't feel like I can give that to you."_

_"Jen," he tried. "It doesn't have to be now." He knew he sounded far less convincing than he'd hoped to._

_"I'm not ready to have children, and I don't know when I will be," she explained, biting her bottom lip to stop from crying. It was a losing battle, particularly when Nick let go of the hand he had been holding of hers and instead put both his hands to her hips, bringing her entire body closer to his. He wrapped his arms around her waist as if not wanting to let her go, perhaps fearing that she was about to make a run for it._

_She allowed him to move her closer to him, but dropped her head. "If I can't give you the family you want…" she explained, devastation creeping into her voice as it dropped to barely above a whisper. "…we probably shouldn't get married."_

How the hell'd we wind up like this?  
Why weren't we able to see the signs that we missed?  
And try and turn the tables

_They stood still and in silence for several moments before she finally stepped back and out of his hold, still feeling the overwhelming feeling of obligation to fulfil Nick's dreams with him – the obligation that had placed such pressure on her shoulders, forcing her to feel like she had to retreat. As his arms fell from around her waist, she pulled off the ring on her left hand and allowed the tears to start to fall pathetically._

I wish you'd unclench your fists  
And unpack your suitcase

_She placed the ring, almost sobbing, in Nick's palm and walked out the door without another look back. When she got to her car, her tears increased and her silent devastation turned into heaving sobs. She turned the key in the ignition and placed her hands on the steering wheel, taking in through blurry eyes, her now bare left hand. Jennifer had always thought diamonds were forever – she knew now that that wasn't so. _

_She cried the whole way home._


	25. Chapter 25

Chapter 25

_Try for me _she had said.

_Please try for me._

Matt looked into his glass, now almost empty and not for the first time today. He wondered when drinking alcohol had gone from being a way to relax and wind down, or to have fun at a party and changed to being something of another limb. A limb he felt he could not live without.

Even though the alcohol didn't ever make him feel better. Jen had been right. Of course he was turning into his Dad. How often did I used to go down to the pub and collect him after he'd had one too many and got all emotional, Matt thought to himself. Jennifer had even been there on one such occasion, and had been able to see the state Callum often drank himself in to. Now Matt had allowed the strong hand of the drink dictate his feelings and how he felt about things. He had let it lead him to believe that alcohol was the only answer.

How pathetic.

Matt reached for the bottle of scotch and stared at the label for a moment before pushing it across the table away from his reach. Thinking more about it, now increasingly aware of the hold it had over him and mad at the fact he had let it happen, he got up out of his chair and shoved it forcefully further across the table until it fell right off the edge at the opposite end to where he had been sitting.

The bottle bounced on the floor with a clatter before breaking into an array of chunks. Scotch spilled everywhere, flooding the floor at a frightening pace, quickly making its way around table and chair legs and towards the kitchen door, where it seeped over the ledge invading the next room.

The smell wafted up surprisingly quickly too, and enveloped Matt in a hot steamy rush of air, heavy with the alcohol that had started to ruin his life. He sat at the table and smelt it, gritting his teeth and gripping his glass forcefully. An instant later he pushed back his chair so hard that it fell over and walked over to the sink. Throwing his glass into the metal trough, it too shattered into a million pieces and he didn't even leap back when shards sprayed onto his chest, sticking momentarily to the jumper he was wearing. Instead he just leant on the bench top that bordered the sink and stared out the kitchen window into the backyard. Tears pricked at his eyes but he fought them back. They would only make him feel worse. So instead he bowed his head, wondering what the hell was happening to him, this young cop who had once had the world at his feet, so much out there for him to achieve.

I was bruised and battered

I couldn't tell what I felt

I was unrecognisable to myself

Saw my reflection in the window

Didn't know my own face

Matt sat up in bed later, the lights off, so scared that he couldn't move a single part of his body. He was surprised he was even still breathing. Frantically he wondered how he had ever reached the point of thinking about this. How had he sunk this low? He didn't know if anyone could save him now.

The night has fallen

And I'm lying awake

I can feel myself fading away


	26. Chapter 26

Chapter 26

"What?" Nick asked, frowning hard, the strain of the last hour very evident on his face.

Jen shrugged slightly, avoiding his eyes. Why did this subject have to be such a sour point for them? Why was it so uncomfortable?

"I'm just saying, Matt's might be the only place we have left," she whispered, still not able to meet his gaze.

"Why?" Nick seemed determined to flesh it out, demanding answers. "How do you know it'll be safe there?"

Here it comes, she thought. Her body immediately tensed, preparing for the reaction from him she knew would come. He was going to hit the roof.

Jen began to reluctantly explain herself. "I went to Matt's last night," she began, breathing deeply.

"What!" Nick hissed, frowning even harder.

"I just had to see him Nick." Her voice was almost pleading, trying to get him to understand the value she placed in the friendships she shared with her colleagues. "He needs me…I'm not sure he's gonna be ok."

"Why?" Nick's voice had become short and sharp, firing questions at her. His staccato manner was succeeding at putting Jennifer even more on edge.

"He's drinking," she described. "And he's just so alone. He's given up sergeant…he's lost Emma…I know all he wanted was just to have it all work out, and it hasn't." She felt sad again at the thought of her friend so down. She wanted to reach out to him so badly.

Nick sniffed, sounding disgusted and unsympathetic at the story. But he had one more question for her.

"How did you get there? How did you get to his place last night?" he asked, verging on furious.

Jen shrugged again. "I walked."

Nick's face turned a pinker shade as he breathed out again. He resisted the urge to grab her by the shoulders and shake her for being so stupid. "Do you know what could've happened?" he hissed frantically. "Do you know how dangerous that was? I thought we were a team…I thought we did everything together!"

It was now Jen's turn to voice her disgust. "Oh please Nick!" she countered. "You have no trouble going off on your own all the time! We're not a team! Matt is more of a partner to me than you have been lately! And right now he needs his friends." Jennifer was incredulous – how could Nick not understand mateship? That was what the police force was!

"He's emotionally exploiting you Jen!" Nick hissed. "Can't you see that? It's for attention!"

Jennifer looked aghast at him, never having heard something so absurd ever come out of Nick's mouth. How could he be so uncaring? He suddenly did not feel like part of the Homicide team they were both members of. She answered back just as angrily as he had her.

"Emotionally exploiting me? Are you serious?" she asked. "I don't think there's anyone I should be with more right now than Matt. I care about him and he needs people in his life to be there for him in a way you clearly don't understand."

Jennifer adjusted her crouched position behind the flowering hibiscus, dropping a knee to the cool grass and placing a hand down. She shook her head. "I can't believe you could say something like that," she breathed, feeling so genuinely let down. She looked him square in the eye. "He is our workmate!"

He didn't have an answer for her and so they both crouched there silently, fuming from the argument. Jennifer was already questioning their future inside her head. If it was always going to be this way, maybe it wasn't going to work. He only seemed concerned about their romantic relationship, and it was like a smothering blanket. He disguised it with such worry and concern, making it seem understandable but really, it was like being strangled. And it was a feeling she never got with Matt.

And she knew Matt's was just about the last safe place there was left for them to go.

So she was going to go there, with or without Nick.


	27. Chapter 27

Chapter 27

_Jen knew Ange and Julian would've long gone to bed by the time she picked up the phone and dialled Ange's mobile number. But if ever there was a time she needed a best friend it was now._

_And sure enough, her best friend was at her place in just ten minutes. She held Jennifer as she cried on the couch, crippled with guilt at the feeling of having let Nick down. Jennifer knew much of the whole rambling story wouldn't make sense to anybody but herself and Nick, but when she blubbered about how she wondered if, by accepting Nick's marriage proposal she had led him to believe that she was ready and willing to be his wife and have his children, she knew Angela understood._

_And she still felt that, no matter how long she cried for. As Angela tried to console her, Jen came to realise that she wasn't ready for marriage and kids. She was certain of it now._

_After a while, Ange handed Jen another tissue and looked at her sympathetically. "I'm so sorry I am always harping on about weddings and babies and engagement rings Jen," she apologised, sounding forlorn. "I shouldn't – it's not helping you."_

_Jen shook her head back at her friend, managing a tiny smile. "No, it's ok. It's not that." She dabbed at her eyes and sighed loudly. The whole drama was so mightily frustrating it gave her a constant headache. "Nick and I want different things. He wants a family and a home and I…I don't know what I want. It wouldn't have been right for us to marry like that. I thought I wanted everything he did. I thought I was ready Ange…but I should never have said yes when he proposed."_

Jen scuttled away, keeping low, leaving Nick in her wake. She was furious and wanted nothing more than to get as far away from Nick as possible. How could he have said those things? If he was that inconsiderate of her feelings and opinions, he wasn't the man she thought he was. She chided herself a moment later for being so stupid – he had in fact always been like this. Always thinking about what he wanted and always standing so steadfastly by his own opinions, and never considering hers, or anyone elses. Isn't that why they broke off their engagement four years ago? Because he had not considered how she might feel about starting a family so soon after they got married? He cared for her, of course, but sometimes it was maybe too much. And it always drove them apart.

In automatic mode, Jennifer ran down laneways and alongside carports and back fences. She didn't know which direction she was going, nor which direction she _should _be going. She just kept going – jogging along at a quick pace, fuelled by her anger and sadness from yet another fight with Nick.

I'll walk a thousand miles

Just to slip this skin

Suddenly a train station came into view and Jennifer immediately thought it a blessing in disguise. She approached, still feeling weary about being in such a public place. Swarms of people crowded the platform and she worked quickly at blending herself in with them, hoping her sweaty days old clothes, tired face, dirty hair and exhausted gait would go unnoticed by the other passengers.

Only moments later a train screamed into the station and she hopped on without a ticket. As it took off again, Jennifer stood in the centre of the carriage, hugging the pole in front of her, her mind clicking over, plotting her next move. She was on her own now, and while so much of her simply couldn't believe that, the rest of her was driven and ambitious, needing no one but herself. As she stood there as the train hurtled along the tracks, she took several deep breaths in and out and began to feel like maybe she could get out of this whole shambles alive.

Maybe.

She was semi certain that her hunters would ease off now after the exploits of the morning. They had been on a rampage and were probably feeling cocky and confident that they had gotten rid of those pesky Claybourne's. The way they had targeted both her own and Nick's homes told Jennifer that they didn't really know where Trish and Wesley were hiding – they were simply trying to cover all bases and destroying every place they could think of where they might be hiding. Jennifer betted with herself that number 11 was a bullet riddled mess too – she just hadn't seen it yet.

As the train approached the next stop Jennifer could see another train coming up alongside it, ready to branch off in the same general direction as the one she was on, only with a bit more of a slant to the west. When the trains doors opened, Jennifer stepped off one train and immediately onto the other. It was virtually empty and even though she felt she needed the space, it made her feel uneasy for a reason she couldn't quite put her finger on. She sat hunched in a seat at the very end of the carriage, regarding the few other passengers wearily.

Even though she was feeling slightly confident that she had shrugged off her hunters – for the meantime anyway – out of pure paranoia that simply would not rest, Jennifer train hopped for two hours that day, managing to put an incredible amount of distance between herself and all the places that now held horrible and frightening memories for her. The further away she got the better she felt.

As night fell she felt confident enough to head to Matt's again at last. She felt nothing holding her back now. Nick was not with her, and she had managed to keep out of sight of her stalkers all day. And besides, something within her was telling her she shouldn't waste time in getting to Matt. She was far more worried about him than she had bothered telling Nick.

It was just after eight when she reached Matt's backyard. The sun was only just beginning to set, and she had taken an enormous risk getting to his house with so much light still around, but her worry had driven her to take the risk.

She crept up the footpath and to the same window she had used to enter his house before. The atmosphere felt vastly different though, and a shiver ran through her as she approached. It was quickly joined by a feeling of dread that she could not ignore.

She peeked over the window sill and into the room. It glowed with the last streaks of day, illuminating the room in a soft orangey pink glow that fell over every piece of furniture and completely covered the walls and bed. It felt like a safe haven.

But then she saw Matt, curled into a ball in the bed, facing the window. The sheet was pulled tightly up around his chin and shoulders, pulled so taut it was almost coming out of where it was tucked into the foot of the bed. She could see the outline of his body under the thin cloth, tense and rigid and deathly still. She looked at his face and saw the whites of his eyes shining brightly as he stared blankly straight ahead, as if hypnotised. His vision was transfixed, but on nothing. She shuddered.

The quiet scares me because it screams the truth

She tapped at the window with just one finger. He didn't notice the noise, nor her head sticking up over the ledge. She tapped again, harder this time, with two fingers. The window was only a metre or so from the bed. The second time, he noticed, and lifted his head off the pillow reluctantly. She smiled when he looked over at her and silently asked to come in, even though she wasn't going to wait for an answer. A fresh sense of urgency propelled her actions and she lifted the glass panel quickly and climbed inside, clambering to Matt's bedside in a heartbeat.

She crouched beside the bed so that they were eye level, and placed her hands on the edge of the mattress. Closer up, the look on Matt's face made Jennifer want to bawl right then and there - the expression was so heartbreaking. It was ten times worse than it had been when she had last seen him. She became scared.

Wake me when this game is over

Take me away

"Matt?" she whispered, reaching up to stroke his forehead hesitantly.

He didn't respond, his eyes still staring straight ahead, fixated on nothing.

"Oh Matty," Jennifer breathed, her voice cracking. She found his hands under the sheet and placed her own over them before bowing her head down on top of them. She struggled not to cry. A second later she looked back up to see he had still not moved, so moved herself instead. As she climbed quickly and dexterously over his still frame and onto the other side of the bed, she came face to face with a slew of pill bottles scattered haphazardly on the bedside table. Several were open, but even just the sight of them made her elbows buckle, and she fell onto the mattress with an awkward little thump. She could barely breathe. Matt's situation had just become frighteningly real. She felt overwhelmingly glad she had come when she did.

She turned away from the ugly bedside table scene and curled up against Matt's back, placing a hand caringly on his shoulder, dying to have him turn over and face her.

It took half an hour, but he finally did. He rolled over stiffly, still staring as blankly at her as he had the wall of the window. Jennifer's face contorted in sadness at the sight of him so lost and helpless. "Matty," she asked in a whisper. "What have you done?"

Confess to me

Every secret moment

Every stolen promise you believed

Confess to me

All that lies between us

All that lies between you and me

His face finally moved as he broke down.


	28. Chapter 28

Chapter 28

Nick felt like every ounce of him was working overtime to stop the paralysing fear enveloping him again in the moments after Jennifer walked away from him. He watched her go, too angry and too stubbornly proud to call her name. He knew she wouldn't have looked back anyway, even if he had called out to her. Soon she was gone completely from his sight, and he remembered the last time she had walked away from him and not looked back. That time he had held her beautiful engagement ring in his hands as she walked away – the ring he had spent weeks choosing and enlisting the help of Angela to find the most perfect one. This time his hands were empty, but it hurt just as much, if not more.

Because Jennifer was not the only one with fears and pressures and reservations. He too had them, but she never seemed to notice, too caught up in the whole drama she made so many things out to be.

She never realised that he was so insistent on, and eager to, get married and have babies, because he knew that she was the right person to do all that with. He had always known, right from that New Years Eve party, that she was the one that he should spend the rest of his life with. He just knew. And because he was so certain, perhaps it made him a bit pushy about the issues. But so much of him was afraid. He wanted to be with Jennifer and have kids with her, and feared that if he wasn't, and didn't, that it would never ever happen for him. It was Jen or nobody. No marriage. No family. No nothing. If he missed his chance with Jen then that was it – all his chances were gone.

Nick knew it was probably just a silly, irrational, unwarranted fear, but it was still his fear, and it plagued him everyday, especially during moments like this. If anyone else was in his position, surely they'd be this protective of her too? Nobody else mattered to him as much as Jen did. He would do anything for her. Anything. And as she disappeared from his sight, he knew that one way or the other, he had to let her know this.

He couldn't stop her from stalking off and doing her own thing of course, so now was not the right time. But he had a fair idea of where she would go, and knew, when the opportunity arose, that he would meet up with her again and together they'd be safe again and put an end to this maddening life undercover.

Nick knew the opportunity would not just be presented to him on a silver platter though. He knew he'd have to wait and work for it. But what happened next shocked him, and immediately pushed everything he had planned, back indefinitely.

He'd been too busy watching Jennifer that he'd failed to realise he was being watched himself. Cold and calculating though, just watching their prey, they waited for the perfect opportunity to pounce. It was an incredible gamble, but in Nick's state it was easy to tell that it'd pay off. His mind was pre occupied now that he was alone, and his reactions and choices were not as sharp as they usually were. He was making it all too easy for them.


	29. Chapter 29

Chapter 29

"I didn't think it would get this bad Jen," he whispered. He could barely talk, and she worried constantly as he spoke, that he had taken something that was slowly beginning to have an effect on him.

She frowned, shattered to hear his explanations. They held hands, grasping fingers and palms in a desperate tangle and effort just to be touching. Jennifer knew Matt needed that. But she didn't know what to say to him.

"I thought I could do this," he continued after another long silence. "I thought I could be a sergeant. I thought I could make Emma happy. I thought my friendship with you and Duncan and Rhys and Allie would never change. I thought I could stand to work with Nick when you two had become so close. I thought I could handle knowing the truth about Mum. But I couldn't do any of it."

Pretty pretty please

Don't you ever, ever feel

Like you're less than fucking perfect

Pretty pretty please

If you ever, ever feel

Like you're nothing

You're fucking perfect to me

"I didn't take anything," he mumbled, answering the question he knew she most wanted to ask him but was too scared and too polite to do so. "But I don't know where else to turn Jen," he admitted. His eyes were gallantly devoid of tears, but his face was a mess of emotion he couldn't hold back. "What have I got left?" There had never been a question he'd asked before that he wanted an answer to this badly. His life, literally, depended on it.

Jennifer leaned in and wrapped her top arm around his neck, pulling him close to her for several moments. She hugged him tightly, hoping that the words she couldn't find anywhere to say out loud were obvious through her actions towards him.

As they pulled apart Jennifer tried her best to smile. It was her sincerest effort, but she knew it was only a tiny smile. "You have me." She said it strongly, so intent on having him believe her. The defiance in her voice was at its height. The moment called for it.

Matt gave a wistful, sad smile in acknowledgement but said nothing, instead just looking down at their joined hands. His were weak and flimsy, the fight even gone out of that part of his body, but she held him with an unwavering grip that was so tight it was almost uncomfortable.

"When I was younger Matt," Jen began, encouraging him to look back into her eyes. "My parents let a lot of their friendships go. People they were friends with when I was little, that I used to spend so much time with that they were practically my family too – they just didn't keep them up as I got older. By the time I was a teenager we never saw them anymore. And not for any good reason either – just because my parents had been too lazy and hadn't cared enough to keep up the friendship. And I always hated that they let that happen."

She took a breath in and out and continued, knowing she was slowly getting Matt's attention back to where she wanted it. "I always said to myself that I would never, ever let that happen to any of my friendships. No matter how much time passed and no matter what had happened in our lives – I'd never just let it slip away."

She pulled one hand from their grasp and put it warmly to his exposed cheek. "Matty – I'm never going to let our friendship go. Never. I won't. No matter what happens to me, or to you. I will always be your friend. You will always, _always_ have me in your life." She smiled and nodded at him, ensuring he understood. "I just want you to know that."

After she'd said it she wondered for a moment in what capacity she _would_ always be in Matt's life. She knew she would always be friends with him – always – but would it ever be anything more? Right then she didn't know – but did know she was probably thinking too hard about it because of the uncertainties and toing and froing she always seemed to experience with Nick – but she knew that no matter what, she and Matt would always, always be in each others lives.


	30. Chapter 30

Chapter 30

Angela's house was the first place Nick went to in his search for Jen. The day that had begun so brutally for Nick had turned into a beautiful steamy Saturday afternoon – the kind that made even the laziest people get outdoors and walk their dogs and play with their kids. Nick half expected Ange and Julian to be outside in their front yard, pulling up weeds or mowing the lawn. But as he approached in his car, trying to move inconspicuously up the street, their front yard was hauntingly empty.

Nick's heart sank. Even the garage door was closed. He prayed they weren't out. He didn't know what he'd do if they were. And he didn't know what Jennifer would've done if she'd rocked up there too, seeking refuge, and found her friends nowhere in sight.

He parked three houses up and walked quickly in the direction of what Ange had so often called her and Julian's love nest. His hands in his pockets forcefully, he could feel the material pouches strain against his tense hands. He didn't even try to loosen his muscles though, knowing it would be no use. Nick walked briskly and looked over his shoulder and around him constantly, still very afraid. A feeling of endlessness constantly played on his mind – there simply seemed to be no solution to this dire situation, no end to it at all, and the thought filled him with dread. All he wanted was to go back to boring old life. With Jen.

Still, with every step closer to Ange and Julian's front door, Nick was being lulled into a false feeling of safety. He genuinely believed that he would knock on that front door, be welcomed into a safe haven where terrorists could not find him, and find Jen sitting at the kitchen table with a cup of coffee and a Monte Carlo in her hand.

He believed that fantasy right up until he stood in the entryway with Angela, asked her if Jen was with her and saw the complete lack of recognition in Angela's face. Her confused look confirmed what he had been fearing all along, but had been trying to ignore. Jen was not there, and never had been.

Nick's heart sank even lower at this realisation. He didn't know what to say. Ange took his elbow and gently guided him into the kitchen, asking questions as they slowly walked into the next room. But Nick was lost for words. The story was too long and complicated even for him to understand, let alone explain out loud to someone else, to an outsider.

Finally, as they sat down at the table, Angela began to feel the danger. "Where's Jen Nick?" she asked, verging on talking to him like he was a toddler. "Where's your goddess?"

The private nickname Nick had for Jen didn't even register with him when Angela said it. It was a term of affection he had for her that he had only very rarely used because he held it in such high esteem, the way he had her, when they had been engaged. Then when they had hidden out in his house the previous night, the name had entered his subconscious again, but sitting next to Jen's best friend right then, he might as well not even have heard it.

Nick wanted desperately to snap back into the cool, ever capable, quick thinking detective he usually was, because then maybe he wouldn't look like a scared shitless guy and maybe he would be able to figure out what to do next. But he couldn't – he just couldn't.

So when a balaclava covered head and a menacingly black shiny pistol appeared between Nick and Angela a second later, and a voice whispered 'don't even think about moving', Nick's voice and brain were uncharacteristically frozen.

They had pounced.


	31. Chapter 31

Chapter 31

Throughout Matt's career, countless people had told him that sometimes the job just got you. Some people could do it forever and some people just couldn't. There was no in between, and yet Matt knew that he had naively been trying to muscle in on the in between, determined to make it work even though it was so obviously not.

As he laid on the bed, Jennifer beside him, being the best friend he'd always known she was, he wondered to himself if his time was up. He had bought his mothers killers to justice, and that had been one of the primary reasons he'd joined up. When he'd tried to up the ante after that by becoming sergeant, trying to further challenge himself and find reason to come to work everyday, chasing the greater good, he'd been, he felt, embarrassingly unsuccessful. So maybe it was time to move on. He couldn't cope with the job anymore – he'd done all he was capable of as a copper.

He voiced this concern to Jennifer as the room got darker and darker around them.

"But what about all the others Matt?" she insisted. She propped her head up on her hand, but kept the other one holding his tightly. She was scared to let it go. Her voice lowered, emphasising the delicacy of what she was about to say. "Your Mum was so important, but I've seen you put just as much passion and dedication into other cases Matt. They all matter, remember? Isn't that what you always said?"

Though he was incredibly grateful for her presence beside him on what was undoubtedly the lowest night of his life, he couldn't answer her question. He was trying so hard to break the cycle – the cycle that he had always lived his life by, of never ever letting people know his secrets, to save himself from their sympathy, but it was more difficult than he'd anticipated. He'd revealed a lot to her already, to his surprise, but there was still so much more, and he didn't know how to get it out.

Jennifer wanted to reassure him that he wasn't alone in feeling helpless like this. "Don't be afraid to fall apart," she whispered. "It happens to the best of us."

Knowing other people could feel this way too didn't particularly help Matt, though he appreciated what she was trying to say.

She shuffled in closer to him, running her thumb over the soft skin of the back of his hand. Moments like these were when she felt her strongest connection with Matt – he seemed to not only understand her fears and hesitations about life, but experienced them himself on a daily basis as well. It was a characteristic they shared that she found comfort in. Nick, with his confidence and drive, big dreams and huge plans, never seemed as uncertain about where he was going as she and Matt did, and certainly never seemed to question whether he had the goods to get there like she and Matt did, and this made Jennifer further question a future spent with Nick. Were they too different? Were these differences so big that they pulled them apart, whilst the lack of differences she and Matt shared bought them closer together than ever? And was that closeness she felt with Matt borne out of sympathy for each other, a mutual understanding of all their hardships, or was it a true closeness that meant they could perhaps take their friendship to a different level?

I can't do this by myself

"But I don't want to fall apart Jen," Matt whispered in stubborn reply. "That's not who I want to be." He looked her square in the eye. "If I fall apart I've got nothing."

Jen shook her head on the pillow. "No," she replied. "If you fall apart you have me," she assured him for the second time that night. "Always remember that."

You were there

You held the line

You're the one that brought me back

Not much later Jennifer got up off the bed and headed back for the window again. Despite her confused feelings for the two men in her life, she still knew she had to go and find Nick. They were a team, undercover, and she couldn't abandon him forever.

"Take my car," Matt insisted as he sat on the edge of the bed and bade her farewell reluctantly. "I won't be needing it for a while." He knew he'd need a while to get back into the swing of policing, if he got back into it at all. He needed time and space to make his decision.

He grabbed the keys off the bedside table and tossed them over to her. She caught them and shot him a grateful look. Matt Ryan not only sacrificed everything to be a good cop, but also to be a great friend, she thought. They just don't come any more selfless than him.

She slipped out the window and hurried towards Matt's car parked in the driveway. As she started up the engine and habitually pulled her seatbelt across her body she stewed in her confused feelings over both Matt and Nick.

No matter how hard it seems, she thought to herself, sometimes, just one person, is worth it.


	32. Chapter 32

Chapter 32

Angela gasped loudly and did the exact opposite of what was asked of her, springing up from her chair instantly, stumbling over the legs of it as she kicked it out of her way. But the shock was so great that even Ange was lost for words and simply gasped again as she stood upright and the gun was pointed at her temple. She stood, posed in an awkward stance, frightened to move from her place by the fridge.

Nick exchanged terrified looks with her as the intruder – who Nick guessed was probably Abbott – told him to get up. He did so, took what he was sure were going to be his final breaths, and lamented that he was about to die without ever getting to see his goddess again.

When Jen arrived at the street next to Angela and Julian's it was just before midnight. The cover of darkness put her at ease, and as she got out of the car she even took a moment to look up and appreciate the silken canopy of stars that littered the sky, making for a striking summers evening that she wished she had more time to revel in.

As she jogged down the street, away from her car, around the corner and then up Angela and Julian's little street she saw Nick's car. She couldn't believe her luck. Surely it could not be this easy. Surely he could not be inside, sitting at the kitchen table sharing a cup of coffee and a biscuit with the woman Jen had pegged four years ago to be her maid of honour when she married Nick. Surely not? Either way, it made her run faster towards the house.

Just ten minutes later Jen was running back down Angela's street and back towards Matt's car. The panic that had been so evident in Angela's eyes and the fear that rattled her voice when she told Jen that a masked intruder had wrenched Nick away just hours earlier, punching him and pointing a gun at his head as he marched him out of the house, made Jennifer run faster than she ever had before. As she got into the drivers seat, leaving a still shaking Ange behind in the arms of a recently returned and stunned Julian, pleading with Jen to call her when she had reached safety, Jennifer herself began to shake as she realised she'd reached the end of her rope. She had no place left to turn now. She had exhausted all her avenues. There was no one left she could trust or turn to, and no place left to go.

Except for one. She gave in and headed towards it.

Homicide was the only place left – the only place left that held people she felt she could trust, and who would help her without hesitation.

She glided through the streets of Melbourne towards the familiar building, letting her memory guide her way. Just five blocks from her target, haste began to get the better of her, and she put her foot down impatiently to make a green light she knew was going to change at any second. There was a car in front of her, but she was sure they'd race through the intersection, just like she planned to, but suddenly she saw the blaring red of their brake lights flash, and realised too late that they were going to stop for the now amber traffic light. Her foot switched in a heartbeat to the brake pedal, slamming it into the floor with an incredible amount of force. The tyres squealed and burnt underneath her, scarring the road with black rubber as she jerked the wheel roughly to the right, trying frantically to avoid the car in front of her.

By a hairs breadth, she did. But next in her line of vision was the traffic light pole itself, standing imposingly tall and solid, and when she slammed bonnet first into it, everything came to a sickening stop. Everything that is, except for Jennifer. She was thrown forward violently, and in the millisecond she was thrown against her seatbelt she somehow instinctively remembered to tense up her neck and shoulders, and while it didn't stop her from hitting her head hard on the steering wheel, it did lessen the severity of the whiplash she immediately knew she had endured.

She let out a painful cry, reaching for her throbbing forehead. There was no blood, but her fingers hovered around the site so delicately because it hurt so much. Her chest heaved and she struggled to undo her seatbelt as she gasped and cried for breath, reaching next for the doors handle. She eased herself out of the car and surprised herself with being able to stand, albeit it on wobbly foundations. Her knees felt unsteady, and not quite there, and she wondered how many steps they would support her for before she fell over. One…two…three…the fourth step never quite materialised as a member of the public caught her just in time. She crumbled into the strangers arms, forfeiting all her weight into their embrace, and promptly blacked out.


	33. Chapter 33

Chapter 33

Angela was inconsolable. Nothing Julian could say could calm her down. Together they waited twenty minutes – more than enough time for Jennifer to reach the Homicide building. They knew that was where she would go, and she had promised she would call them when she got there, safe inside it's heavily secured perimeter and unpenetrable doors. But no call came, and Angela knew something had gone wrong. In a panic, she called the first person who sprang to mind.

"Matt Ryan."

Angela was momentarily pleased that he sounded better than he had in the last week. But she quickly forgot about the dramas that were his life that she had been so concerned by just days before, and launched into a tearful tirade to him.

"Something's happened to Jen Matt," she screeched. "Something's happened to Jen!"

Understandably taken aback by the hysteria of Angela's voice, Matt took a few gulping moments to comprehend what she was saying.

"What?" was the first thing out of his mouth. "Where? Why, what's happened? Where is she? Isn't she with Nick?" He was speaking as incoherently as Ange was, but the quicker the reality sunk in for him the further down it penetrated into his heart and the sicker he began to feel.

"Nick WAS here, but they found him," she wailed, putting a hand to her forehead. "They grabbed him and took him away Matt! I couldn't stop them, they had a gun!"

"And Jen?" Matt was trying frantically to gather himself together and make an assessment of the situation.

"She came over just half an hour ago, but when I told her he wasn't here she bolted…" Ange explained. "She was going to go back to Homicide Matt. She promised she'd call when she got there, so I knew she was ok. She should've been there by now…something's wrong, I just know it!"

Matt knew Angela was right. It was what made her a great lawyer – she could pick up on when something was amiss. And she was right – every time. Matt had no doubt she was right this time too. It propelled him off his bed and he paced the room as he spoke.

"All right," he instructed, pulling out of nowhere his policemans voice and confidence. "Stay where you are. I'll call Sargeant Wolfe…don't worry Ange, I'll find her."

He'd said out loud that he could find Jen, but within, he wondered if he really could.

Stanley was even more switched on than Matt was, and easily took over when he heard the news from a concerned Matt.

"Go straight to Homicide," Stanley instructed. "I'll meet you there when I know what's happened to Jennifer." His voice was blunt and unwavering.

Yet still Matt wanted to argue. "But Sarge," he protested. "I've gotta make sure Jen's all right!" That was what he wanted to know the most, and how much he wanted to know that simply couldn't be measured. Her attentiveness to his state of mind, her commitment to their friendship, her concern over his feelings, it had all touched him in an extraordinary way. He cared more for her than anyone else – he had to know if she was ok. But as he listened to Stanley's reply he realised he couldn't get there anyway – she had taken his car.

"No Matt." Stanley was unrelenting. "Meet me at Homicide. I'll keep you informed."

Matt sighed.

As they hung up though his boss showed a moment of quiet compassion for his struggling young charge. "Don't worry Ryan…she's ours. We won't let anything happen to her. We'll make sure she's safe. Just meet me at Homicide."


	34. Chapter 34

Chapter 34

Almost as soon as Stanley hung up with Matt his phone rang again. It was the chief super intendant informing him of the motor vehicle accident his detective had just been involved in. "Get your arse down there Stanley," came the barking voice on the other end of the line. "This undercover operation has gotten way out of hand!"

Nick's entire body throbbed as he was thrown from one side of the van to the other as the driver screamed around corners and came to nail biting stops. He could not even put a hand out to protect himself, as they were bound tightly with shiny silver gaffer tape that caught the reflection of the moonlight every now and again. But other than that, he was trapped in a darkness so engulfing it felt like the end of the world.

They had been driving for hours, and Nick knew they were getting agonisingly further and further away from Angela and Julian and Homicide and Jen. When the van finally stopped, he heaved a sigh of relief so loud he wondered if his captors in the front seat heard it. Perhaps not, as Nick was huddled pitifully in the furtherest corner of the van, right by the door, and Abbott and Hartono were arguing so loudly in the front seat that only the sound of a gunshot would've been heard over them.

They continued to argue like beasts at each other as they got out of the car, leaving Nick alone. He heard them walk away, shutting several doors and gates behind them. He was on his own. He used the opportunity, now that the car was stationary, to work at untying himself. But it wasn't easy, and he spent much of the next three hours toiling away at the tight restraints, exhausting himself inexplicably.

When Stanley laid eyes on Jennifer he was pleasantly surprised to see that she was sitting up, on the edge of the ambulance's door. But she was slumped against a paramedic, and her eyes were closed. The fear shot through Stanley Wolfe's body yet again.

As he approached, his hands in the deep pockets of his light summer coat, he thanked God's graces for bringing her out of the car wreck all in one piece. It was the least they could ask for – Stanley had a feeling it was only going to get worse the more details he found out.

As he spoke quietly to the paramedic, Jennifer came to slowly. She moaned and tried to sit up right, but struggled with the pain she immediately felt upon trying.

The angel opens her eyes

Pale blue coloured eyes

Confusion sets in

"Mapplethorpe," Stanley soothed, reaching out a hand to place on her shoulder. "Don't try to move."

She frowned – she couldn't move far even if she wanted to. She felt stiff and sore and oh so sorry for herself. But she hadn't forgotten about why she'd been speeding towards Homicide in the first place.

"Sarge…" she managed to get out. "They've got Nick."

Matt dressed and gathered his wallet and mobile phone, stuffing them into his pockets. He paced the floor by his front door, waiting for Duncan to pick him up. He felt the urge to call Jo – beautiful, understanding Jo, a woman he had previously wanted to shun, but who he now knew would be one of the people who would help him through all of this – and have her talk him through what was about to happen. But he didn't. Instead, when he heard Duncan's car pull into the driveway, Matt put his game face on and walked outside to meet his colleague.

Matt sat in the back seat of Duncan's car and held Angela's hand as they sped towards Homicide. He tried to coax any information out of her that he could, but she was traumatised and little help. Frustrated, Matt called Stanley again, eager for an update.

"She's been in an accident," was all he would reveal when Matt asked after his closest friend.

"What? Where?" his voice was frantic. He wanted desperately to be with her and hold her hand the way she had his.

"Not far from Homicide," Stanley replied. "But she's fine Matt…they're taking her to the hospital now. I still want you to meet me at Homicide – is Freeman with you? We've got a bigger problem than we realised."

Matt nodded into the mobile, conceding defeat to his superior. "Yeah, and we've got Angela Crawford. We're almost there." As he said the last word the crash site suddenly came into view and Matt plastered his face to the window of the car, knowing it was where Jennifer had crashed. He looked hard, squinting his eyes in the unevenly lit area, but could see nothing but a mass of people near the wreck that was his car. An ambulance, with its doors closed, was pulling away, and just a few metres to the left, standing on the curb, was Stanley Wolfe, still holding his mobile phone to his ear. When he saw Matt's face at the window to Duncan's Commodore, he gave a grave nod, acknowledging the car's passing. Duncan drove slowly on, through the scene, waved towards detours by uniforms wearing fluro yellow vests with brightly lit reflectors on them. The lit up batons they waved became a blur in Matt's eyes as he strained to see what was happening before him until he couldn't anymore. Moments later they pulled into the Homicide carpark. Jennifer had been so close to reaching safety, Matt thought.


	35. Chapter 35

Chapter 35

The team sat tensely around the table, mustered there by their absent boss. They threw around what they knew of the situation – which was very little, especially for the likes of Rhys and Allie – and continued to try to get information out of Angela, one by one, approaching her at intervals out in the office area where she sat with a cup of coffee that had been made for her, but which she wasn't drinking.

In the muster room six mobile phones sat like silent little bricks in the middle of the table, ready to be pounced upon the instant one of them rang. Every single person in the room was practically holding their breath waiting for one of the devices to trill. It was an agonising wait that only added to the confusion they felt.

Finally, Stanley strode in, acknowledged the presence of Waverly and Jarvis and then turned his attention to his small team of four detectives. It felt strange the way they were missing two of the strongest links in the team chain, but Stanley ploughed straight ahead anyway. He gave Duncan, Matt, Rhys and Allie his full attention as they hurled questions at him, desperate to know what had happened to their colleagues.

The story took several minutes to explain – it had taken even longer for Jennifer to reveal it all to Stanley before the paramedics insisted on taking her away. Understandably the team were shocked at the events of the last 24 hours and each reacted differently upon hearing the news that Nick was still missing, presumed kidnapped by Hartono and Abbott.

Allie stood up out of her chair and walked around to stand behind it, leaning on it heavily, thinking hard. As a cop she had very little patience most days, always declaring something as 'bullshit' or insisting the team pursue a suspect or a line of inquiry a certain way. But tonight she was speechless.

Duncan wore a worried expression that Stanley knew was borne out of genuine heartfelt concern for the colleagues he owed so much to and respected so much. Stanley knew Duncan would be the last to leave when this case was over.

Rhys studied the looks of everyone else, unsure of what to think or which direction to turn, whilst Matt sat glumly in his seat, staring blankly ahead.

A little after 7am they returned. Nick had wrestled the tape off, but kept it loosely around his wrists, for show, in case they opened the back of the van to see how he was faring. It was as far as any brilliant plans he'd come up with went. He was at a total loss – he didn't know where they were going nor what they would do to him. In a glass half full moment as the car started up, Nick supposed he should be grateful that he was simply still alive.

Nick could only guess that they were going back to where they had left the previous day. He hoped that was where they were heading anyway. That was Nick's domain, his territory, and he had men in his corner there. Because he knew he could not pull this off by himself.

Nick could feel the car gathering speed, and it maintained it for much of the journey. If they were going back to where they had been yesterday, they were making the trip in much quicker time, truly accelerating their speeds. Again, Hartono and Abbott argued incessantly as they drove, and provided Nick with little peace to formulate a plan. He felt helpless, and decided he would just have to play it by ear. He had no other choice.

Slowly the sun began to shine through the back window of the van, as well as through the windscreen up front. Nick was only separated from the two front passengers by a brittle looking shield of mesh. Noticing its aging appearance, he stored the tidbit in the back of his mind for future reference.

But then as quickly as the sun came up, it vanished, and it didn't take Nick long to realise he was somewhere deep underground. The realisation petrified him as he remembered back to a true story he had read as a teenager about a van load full of school children who were buried alive. He couldn't think of a worse way to die and it sent shivers up his spine.

The van circled wherever they were for some minutes as Nick scrounged up the courage to silently creep a bit closer to the mesh behind Hartono and Abbott. Taking a peak out, bobbing his head only centimeters above the bottom of the mesh window, he finally saw where they were. There was no mistaking. He had been there only weeks earlier with some old mates from the Drug Squad and they had driven around and around in circles just like they were now.

It was Etihad Stadium.


	36. Chapter 36

Chapter 36

Finally a lead. The team had worked through the night and straight through the morning, even though Matt had been seldom able to concentrate, and they at last knew where the hell they were going. They raced for Etihad Stadium.

Abbott and Hartono had been smart enough to have managed to avoid capture for a long time – but were not smart enough to keep quiet about their plans whilst Nick was in the back of the van. They'd either forgotten he was in there and would be able to hear them, or didn't care if he could or not. Nick decided it was probably that they didn't care once he heard their plan – to blow the stadium to smithereens as eager football fans piled in for the Sunday match – because they planned to blow him up with it. And so certain were they that their plan was going to work that they didn't pay much attention to the fact that Nick was hanging onto their every word, crouched behind the drivers seat.

Nick's mind raced along at such a frightening pace that he could barely keep up with himself. As they switched off the ignition and bundled out of the front seats, Nick caught his last glimpse of the digital clock on the dashboard as the numbers faded away. It was 10:57am. At 11:15 Etihad Stadium was going to be wrecked beyond repair. And Nick had been left locked in the van to die.

Parking the van deep underneath the stadium would have severely weakened its structure and caused maximum damage once the explosion hit. But slack in their planning, Nick suspected because they had been too busy chasing he and Jennifer, Abbott and Hartono had run out of time to do a practise run, and on the way in, as they'd circled the van through the levels of carpark, they'd become confused about which way was out. Concerned that they would not have enough time up their sleeves to run to safety if they got too lost escaping the stadium's carpark grid, they had decided at the last minute rather hastily that they would park the van mid way up the carpark levels to gain maximum exposure and cause considerable fatalities. Their ruthless cold blooded desire to kill as many people as possible rather than cause the more damage to the structure itself made Nick sick to his stomach. And he could hear the fans streaming in to the stadium already.

Nick set immediately to work on the weak looking mesh divide that shielded the back of the van from the two front seats. To his dismay and disappointment the mesh was a lot stronger than it looked, and no matter which way he pulled at it, or how much he clawed at what he thought were its weakest points, it wouldn't budge.

He grunted with the effort as he leant back on his hands and raised a foot to kick at the stubborn barrier. It barely made a dent. Desperate, he looked around, wondering what he could use as a tool to escape. In a moment of pure frenzied anger as he looked in the dark space, he actually reached his hands out either side of him, touching the side walls of the vehicle and threw his weight around from one side to the other and back again, his feet spread wide apart, trying to rock the van so much that it would crash onto its side, weaken some of the panelling or the locked back door and allow him to escape.

It became quickly apparent though that this was a fruitless effort. As if his weight would ever be enough to topple such a big van, and who knew that falling on its side would weaken any part of it enough anyway, for him to make an escape? Nick was getting delusional in his escape attempts, but as the clock ticked past 11:00, he was more than a little desperate.

As he bought his legs back closer together in the middle of the van and stood properly again, the only slight rocking he had managed to create stopping, he heard a jangle on the floor of the car. He dropped to his knees, feeling blindly around the floor of the van for whatever it was he had heard. His hands smoothed over the cool metal of the cars body and a second later felt a long rusty object. He grabbed it and bought it up closer to his face so he could see it.

He almost yelped with victory when he saw what it was. It was rusty and old, and battered badly at both ends, but it was still a crow bar. A god damn crowbar. Now THEY were making it too easy for HIM. He smiled devilishly, overjoyed at his find, and immediately attacked the mesh again with his new tool. It took some minutes – something Nick was very, very aware of – but bit by bit he plied the mesh away. When he'd created a hole barely big enough to squeeze through, he attacked it with his boot again, feeling the desperation in his attempted escape in the force with which he kicked at the last of the mesh. Finally he had an escape route. There were only minutes left, he knew.

He writhed through the impossibly small opening in the mesh that he had created, and felt the jagged broken spikes tear at his clothing and rip into his skin. But he barely felt it. As he army rolled into the front seat he landed with an uncomfortable thump over the centre console, almost kneeing himself in the head. He quickly scrambled to be upright and reached for the door handle of the passenger seat. For a reason he couldn't understand, it wouldn't open. He dived over to the drivers side door and found the same scenario there. He couldn't work it out – even if the car had central locking you should still be able to open a door from the inside he reeled.

He plunged his torso back through the toothed hole of mesh and grabbed at the discarded crowbar he had abandoned only two seconds earlier. He picked it up and used all his force to throw it at the windscreen.

Possessing a kind of super human power that he knew was created by the danger he found himself in, Nick managed to shatter the windscreen after only two tries. He bashed repeatedly at it with the crowbar until chunks of shattered glass fell away, onto the seats and out into the narrow dip on the bonnet where the windscreen wipers sat minding their own business. Deciding he couldn't waste any more time making a neat job of it all, he barrelled through the screen and slid awkwardly across the bonnet before landing in a heap by the front left headlight.

He picked himself up, not even taking a moment to look back, and ran. In his disorientation he stumbled blindly for a few metres in the multistoried carpark, unsure of which way to go. Now that he was standing out in the open, away from the confines of the van, he felt the ill effects of being bashed severely when he was taken away from Angela's, as well as when he was bound and tied up and pushed into the dark van. The only thing that kept him from collapsing completely was the knowledge that there was almost no time left on the clock. He had to get out of there.

He ran the length of the carpark – a good two hundred metres – and as he was sprinting the ground moved underneath him. The blast was so loud he was instantly deafened, and its force propelled him over the edge of the waist high wall that bordered the carpark. He had no time to assess what he was about to jump over. As he leapt over it, he went into freefall, feeling the air whisp past him as his body cut through the air. In the split second he was holding onto nothing, he knew a bad injury would come of this and he struggled to pull himself into a protective ball to minimise the injury risk. But not before he slammed into the wall of the carpark at a vicious angle, scraping down half of it painfully, ripping up the palms of his hands and shredding the pads of his fingertips as he struggled to grip onto something…anything as he fell. He fell for metres, and despite the agony in his hands, he grabbed for the next railing when it came into view. Gripping it tightly with just one hand, he held on for dear life, feeling his feet dangle precariously beneath him. The muscles in his arm strained and pulled, hurting instantly as his whole body kept swinging as a result of being stopped abruptly by Nick grabbing a hold of the railing. He struggled to pull his other hand up to reach the railing, to even out the hold and support his body weight as he hung. The railing was red hot from the fire of the blast, now burning fiercely not far above him.

He stole a look below him, frightened of how far down the real ground might be. It was. He pulled himself up with a grunt, hurling himself over the railing and onto another level of the carpark. Half of it was simply not there anymore, having fallen away because of the blast, and Nick dashed around the gigantic hole, fighting his way through acrid smoke and choking dust, not to mention intense heat, toward the light he could see just down a staircase to his left. As he reached the top of the case he lost his footing and tumbled down the stairs instead of running down them like he'd planned, and when he finally reached the bottom in a crumpled heap, limbs splayed all over the concrete, he finally gave up the fight.

Uniformed officers, alerted to the terrorist threat by the Homicide squad and briefed on Nick's kidnapping and shown his picture, rushed to his aid, dragging him to safety away from the smoke and debris that surrounded them all. They laid him on the grass some distance away from the destruction and yelled at paramedics to approach as he flaked out on the soft, cool surface, the life drained out of him.


	37. Chapter 37

Chapter 37 Epilogue

Matt sat, as always, uncomfortably in the chair opposite Jo. His palms were sweaty and his face felt hot as he explained to her how it had all come to an end.

"What happened when you saw Jennifer again?" Jo asked gently.

Matt exhaled, remembering the moment he had lost Jen forever. The moment he knew that no matter how he felt about her, no matter how close they sometimes seemed as friends, no matter how much she was concerned for him and his welfare, they would never be the pair he so wanted them to be. For a little while he had thought that maybe they could be, but that feeling had not lasted long.

Maybe I'm getting better

And I feel alive with you

"Nothing," he said simply. "I was waiting a little bit down the hall, waiting for her to come out of the consultation room. There were people everywhere…because of the bomb. Then Nick came from the opposite direction. They only had eyes for each other. They didn't even see me." He paused, remembering the soul destroying moment.

"I couldn't see if she'd been crying or not," he continued quietly explaining to Jo, who hung onto every word he spoke, completely drawn in by the story, and forgetting she was the psychologist for just a few moments. "But he held her in the way I'd always imagined myself holding her…" he trailed off, feeling the lump rising in his throat. He fought to push it back down.

Cos when he's lookin' she falls apart

"They held each other for a long time," he whispered, making Jo lean further forward in her chair in an effort to hear him. "Right there in the hallway. I just walked away. What else could I do? It wasn't my place to be there. They had all they needed right then."

"You just walked away?" Jo was sad to hear of his actions during the climax.

Matt nodded, very aware of the choice they had all made. "That was when I knew," he explained. "I'd been trying to push it away for so long, refusing to believe it. But I knew when she came out of that room that the only person she was looking for was him. Not me, the guy waiting twenty metres down the hall. I wasn't the one who'd just spent a week with her and only her, our lives in danger, so often nothing to do but talk and be alone together. I wasn't the one she'd just shared the most frightening time of her life with. So why would she want to see me? It was him she had the connection with now – built up and fine tuned during that time they spent undercover together."

Jo frowned sadly, taking it all in, for once lost for some reassuring words.

Matt shook his head and raised his eyebrows at her as he gave a little shrug of his shoulders. "There was no place for me in her life anymore," he clarified.

"Not even as friends?" Jo ventured.

Matt shrugged in answer. In the last week he had come to think of their friendship as simply a stepping stone towards a romantic relationship he one day hoped would eventuate. But if they couldn't be friends in the way they used to be – where Matt always hoped for something more because he still thought it might just be possible – it seemed stupid and pointless to be friends at all.

Jennifer now had her perfect life with Nick. The life that she had chosen. And Matt Ryan had been left behind, having missed his chance.

Song lyrics, by chapter:

1 Love Your Way, Powderfinger

16 Love the Way You Lie, Eminem and Rihanna

17 Wishes, Human Nature

22 Passenger, Powderfinger

24 Someday, Nickelback

25 Philadelphia, Bruce Springsteen

27 Philadelphia, Bruce Springsteen

27 Sober, Pink

27 Goldie's Theme, Cathi Ogden

27 Pictures of You, The Last Goodnight

29 F**kin' Perfect, Pink

31 Red, Daniel Merriweather

31 Careless, Paul Kelly

34 Lightning Crashes, Live

37 Baby I'm Getting Better, Gyroscope

37 Dance in the Dark, Lady Gaga


End file.
